She Came in Through the Bathroom Window
by Lovely Rita Harrison
Summary: Michelle is new to Liverpool and has no interest in The Beatles. She finds them an utter embarrassment to the name of Rock n Roll. However, when she meets Paul McCartney in the most unlikely circumstances, will she change her mind about the beloved band?
1. Chapter 1

_**So, this is my third story on here. I'm also in the middle of writing Eight Days A Week and I'll try to update both of them regularly. If I fall behind, please don't get mad at me! **_

_**Anyways, this story just came to me one day. It's set in 1963 during the summer. The main character is about 20 and in college. She is also kind of a spin off my personality, not that I hate The Beatles though! So, now, enjoy. . .**_

It was dark. I was walking home around one in the morning. I'd been at a local park drinking with some friends. We weren't getting drunk or anything – we were just having a good time. We had just finished school and wanted to celebrate. The celebration ended, though, because we didn't want the police – or "bobbies" as they were called here – to catch us. Our parents would have been furious.

So, now I was walking home in the pitch black darkness all by myself. I had moved here in March and still didn't know my way around town. Usually Suzie, my new best friend, would walk me home. Suzie had lived in Liverpool her whole life, while I had grown up in a tiny seaside town in America. Liverpool was very different and sometimes seemed scary to a small town girl like myself.

My family and I had moved here after my father died. He'd been a police officer and had been shot while responding to a robbery. My mother insisted that moving would be the best thing for us. I protested, but being the youngest I had little say in the matter. My mother's mind was made up and my sister always agreed with her. Sometimes I felt like the odd one out without my father around. I didn't like to talk about him a whole lot because it would only make me cry.

I hadn't even told Suzie about my father's death. Of course she'd asked why I'd moved here, but I only told her it was because of "family issues." She didn't pursue the matter further; she wasn't one to pry. Plus, her mind was usually only on one thing and one thing only – _The Beatles. _See, The Beatles were this band in Liverpool that _every _(and I do mean _every_) girl here adored. They were extremely popular and everywhere. Personally, I couldn't be bothered with them. I thought they were an absolute joke and a disgrace to rock n roll.

I'd only seen them play a few times at The Cavern Club. I hated the show each time and refused to see them ever again. Suzie constantly tried to get me to go, but I told her "No!" every time. I always knew she could find someone else to bring.

Each Beatle irritated me for a different reason. First, there was the leader – John, I think was his name – thought he was so incredibly witty. The audiences ate up every word he uttered – whether it was intelligent or not.

Next was the drummer. His name? I couldn't tell you it. All I knew was it wasn't even a _real _name. It was some ridiculous nickname. . .something to do with jewelry. Anyways, as he played the drums, he bobbed his head. Now normally that wouldn't bother me. But he did it out of sync with the beat of every song!

Then there was the lead guitarist. His name escaped me because he was so shy! He looked like a frightened little mouse on stage. And don't even get me started on his eyebrows!

Finally, there was Paul McCartney - the bass player who every girl in the United Kingdom had a crush on. They'd nicknamed him the "cute one" and he knew it and used it well to his advantage. I could tell he enjoyed how the girls screamed his name and how enamored they were with him.

As I thought about all this, I reached my house. I knew the door would be locked – on account of my mother thinking I was home – so I tried the windows. The one next to the door opened and I climbed through – not gracefully, I might add. As I stepped onto the floor, I realized that I was _not_ in my house. I was in someone's _very_ untidy bathroom. There were clothes and towels strewn about everywhere.

_Damn these houses! They all look alike!_ I was about to climb back through the window, but I heard someone coming. I knew I would never make it, so I decided to hide behind the door. My plan was to sneak out of the bathroom after the person had entered the room and wasn't looking. Then, I'd run for the door and get the hell out of here!

As I was about to complete my plan by slipping out of the bathroom, I felt the person's hand on my arm. My stomach dropped. My blood ran cold. The person pulled on my arm to make me turn around. The person holding on to my arm wasn't the angry middle aged adult that I had been expecting. Instead, I saw the last person I wanted to see – Paul McCartney.

I looked at him in horror. His was wearing a white T shirt and pale blue pajama bottoms. His usually kempt hair was in a jumble on top of his head. When I looked into his eyes I could tell he was angry.

"What the bloody hell are ya doing in me water closet?" he demanded.

"I-uh-I'm sorry! I thought this was my house!" I said frantically.

Paul only laughed. He had an amused look on his face. "Calm down! I was only joking, I'm not gonna call yer mum and dad on ya, luv!"

I gave him a stern look as I wriggled my arm out of his grip. "Don't call me 'love.'"

Mockingly, he returned the look and said, "Okay."

I rolled my eyes at him in annoyance and started for the door. _I don't have time for this. _He grabbed my arm again, though, to stop me.

"What's the hurry?" he asked innocently. "Can't we talk a bit? I mean, ya just climbed through my bathroom window . . . there must be a story in there somewhere!"

"I told you," I said without any emotion. "I thought this was my house. Can I go now?"

Paul only ignored my question by asking, "Hey, that's an American accent, isn't it?"

"Yeah," I answered, "can I g-"

"What's a Yank doin' 'ere in Liverpool?" He sat down on the edge of a sofa and rested his chin on his hand. He had an expectant look in his eyes, like a child waiting for a bed time fairy tale.

"It's a long story," I answered dismissively. "Look, I ne-"

"You can tell my while I walk ya home!" he interrupted excitedly.

"What?" I asked dumbfounded.

"Well, obviously ya don't know yer way round Liverpool very well, so I'll walk ya home!" he said as he stood up.

I was in no mood to argue and if this was the only way I was getting home, so be it.

"Fine."

"I'm Paul by the way," he told me smiling. I didn't tell him I already knew who he was. That would probably only lead to more questions.

"I'm Michelle."

As we walked out the front door and down the front steps, he asked, "So, yer long story?" His almond shaped eyes looked at me curiously. For a moment, I was at a loss for words. When I looked away, I regained my voice. While I told him about my father and my family, I kept wondering what made me forget how to speak.

When I finished my story, Paul said, "I know how that is. My mum died when I was about 14." He had a sad look in his hazel eyes as he stared straight ahead. I could tell that he had really loved her and still did. We walked in silence for a few seconds.

Finally Paul asked, "What was yer address again?"

"It's six Hurstlyn Road."

"Oh, that's right up 'ere," he said pointing to my house.

We stopped walking where the sidewalk met the pathway to my house.

"Well, Michelle. It was a pleasure to 'ave met ya," Paul said grinning.

I stopped myself from returning the smile. I didn't want him thinking his little spell had worked on me. But as I stared into his large beautiful eyes, I began to understand what all those girls were screaming about.

"Um, yeah. You too," I said, trying to sound as disinterested as before.

"Well, see ya round, but don't go getting' lost again!" he joked as he turned and began walking away.

Again, I kept myself from laughing. I didn't want to sound like those girls at the Cavern who giggled at the mention of Paul's name.

Walking up the pathway to my front door, I caught myself watching him walk down the street. _Maybe he isn't as bad as I think he is. . ._ I thought as I walked through the door, finding it unlocked. Before I could even reject the thought, though, a light clicked on. I saw my sister sitting in the easy chair next to the tall lamp.

"Where have you been?" she asked crossly.

_Great. It's gonna be one of those nights again. _

_**How was it? Do you hate me for making Michelle complain about The Beatles? Sorry, but I HAD to throw it in there! So review to tell me how ya liked it or if ya have any suggestions. XOXOXO**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter two . . . what can I say about it? It's long-ish, background info, and not too much Beatlesness. BUT DON'T WORRY! It'll all work out! So, as always, enjoy:**

I awoke to the pitter patter of rain hitting my window. I could feel the cold wind on my face because I'd left it open the night before. _Did Liverpool ever see the sun? _I thought as I shivered in my bed. My eyes were still closed and I had no intention of opening them. Unfortunately, my sister barged in as I was about to doze off again.

"Hey, Lazy! Breakfast is ready!" she barked as she sat down on my bed.

I rolled over and groaned in response. She could be so irritating sometimes. As least she promised not to tell our mother about last night. I had told her that I'd been out with my friends – which was the truth. I _hadn't _told her about Paul, however. That would have only led to more scolding. Instead, I told her I had taken the long way home – which wasn't a _total _lie. Climbing through Paul's bathroom window did technically make my walk home longer . . . Plus, Josie didn't need to know everything. She was a little too nosey if you asked me. I mean, she was my sister and I loved her, but still!

"Come on, sleepy head!" she said as she shook me. I rolled over onto my back and stared up at my ceiling. My James Dean poster looked back at me. _He was so cute. . ._

Josie lied down next to me on my bed. "Isn't it a pity?" she phrased it as a statement more than a question.

"It _really _is! Why'd he have to die so young? I was gonna marry him!" I sighed at my fantasy.

"Speaking of getting married, Brad called earlier," she told me.

"Oh. . ." was all I said in response.

" 'Oh'? That's it?" she asked sitting up. She looked down at me in shock.

"What?" I asked confused.

"I don't know . . . I thought you really liked him. Ever since you met him, you haven't shut up about him!" Josie looked me, searching for answers.

It was true. Brad and I had met at college and were inseparable now. We weren't dating yet; we were just friends. Lately though, I got the feeling that he wanted more. And I had wanted more. But now I wasn't sure. At the mention of Brad's name I didn't get that _feeling _anymore. Last time I had that feeling was when Paul had walked me home last night. Wait, what was I thinking? I hated Paul . . . right? Of course I did! Brad was perfect for me. . .I think.

"I do really like him!" I said trying to convince myself more than my sister.

"Okay . . . well like I said, breakfast is ready," she repeated as she stood up from my bed and left my room.

As I watched her leave, I thought how funny my sister was being. She was three years older than me, but completely wrapped up in my life. It was as if she wanted to live through people rather than live her own life. I guess she was afraid to live, though. Our father had been living a normal life and look what happened to him. Maybe by living through me, my sister could still enjoy life, but only to a certain extent – a safer extent almost. _If only she could see how ridiculous that was. _

I sighed at this thought as I got out of bed. I grabbed my bathrobe hanging on my door and headed to the bathroom to shower. After I'd showered, I returned to my room and began looking through my closet for something to wear. I selected black pants and a gray three quarter sleeve sweater. I put my silver bracelet and favorite ring onto my right hand and slid a black headband in my already dry hair. Before going downstairs, I checked myself in my dresser mirror. _Eh, good enough._

When I reached the kitchen, my mother was already cleaning the dishes in the sink. _Great, left out again, _I thought as I slumped down into a chair across the table from my sister. Josie smirked at me as she finished the last bit of scrambled eggs on her plate. I gave her a sarcastic smile back trying to show her that I didn't care. My mother shut off the sink and turned around drying a dish.

"Oh, good morning Michelle," she said smiling at me. "I left you a plate of food by the stove."

"That's okay, mom," I assured her, "I'll just have some orange juice." I stood up and walked over to the refrigerator.

"Are you sure?" my mother asked with concern in her voice.

"Yeah," I answered taking the carton out and closing the refrigerator door. "I'm gonna go over to Suzie's pretty soon anyways."

"Oh, well . . . take an umbrella with you," my mother instructed as she returned to washing dishes. She sounded hurt, as if not eating breakfast was the worst crime I could commit. _Oh, well, _I thought, _Josie was gonna be home all day to cheer her up._

After drinking a glass of orange juice, I said goodbye to my mother and sister, grabbed my coat and shoes and left. I didn't bother taking an umbrella; I like walking in the rain. It had a peaceful feel to it. Plus, it was more of a drizzle than steady rain now.

When I turned the corner at the end of my street, I heard someone calling my name. I turned around and saw Brad running toward me. I smiled and waited for him to catch up.

"Well fancy meetin' you 'ere!" he said in his Liverpudlian accent. I giggled at his humorous comment.

"Haven't you heard?" I joked, "Meeting at street corners in the rain is the latest fad!"

He laughed at my joke. "I was just at yer 'ouse and yer sis said you were on yer way tah Suzie's."

"Aw, my secretive plan was foiled again!" I said pretending to sound disappointed. "Darn her and her evil ways!"

Brad closed his eyes as he chuckled at my comment. Our conversations were always like this – full of silly jokes and random comments. It was how we created our little world of _us. _

Once Brad opened his eyes again, he put his arm around my shoulders and began walking me in the direction of Suzie's house. I reached my hand up to intertwine my fingers in his. He looked over at me and smiled his happy, carefree grin. His deep blue eyes met mine and I could feel butterflies in my stomach again.

_See, I told you he was perfect for you! _my inner voice told me. And you know what? I was starting to believe it. Brad was caring, funny, and intelligent. He wasn't some womanizing musician I'd just met who I happen to think was good looking. I actually _knew _Brad and had a _relationship _with him.

"So are you free today?" I asked with a hopeful feeling.

"No, I hafta work tahday," he said looking at me again. "Sorry luv." He could obviously see the disappointment in my eyes.

"That's okay. . ." I replied trying to hide the hurt in my face.

"So what are you and Suzie gonna do tahday?" he asked, attempting to raise my spirits.

"I don't know . . . She said she had some big news she wanted to tell me. I _really _hope it's not Beatles related!" I said coarsely.

Brad chuckled. "Knowin' 'er," he said, "It probably is!"

I softly laughed when Brad stopped walking. We had reached Suzie's house.

"Well, I better go inside," I said, "She get's impatient." I turned and started walking up the small staircase to the front door. But Brad grabbed my hand before I could reach it.

"Wait," he said.

"What is it?" I asked curiously. I stepped off the first step and onto the pathway so I wasn't taller than him anymore. I looked up at him searching his face for a sign. His dark brown hair was covered in tiny droplets of water and his sparkling eyes looked nervous, but content.

"Michelle, I was just wondering . . ." he began.

"Yes?" I asked, trying to contain myself.

"Well, since we've met . . . I feel like we've known each othah forevah and I know that sounds bloody stupid, but that's how I truly feel," he said taking my hands in his, "So, I was just wonderin' . . . would ya like to be me gurlfriend?" he asked looking deep into my eyes.

"Yes!" I practically squealed as I wrapped my arms around his neck. Brad pulled me into a hug as he draped his arms around my waist. I giggled and gave him a kiss on the cheek. As I pulled my head back, our eyes met and Brad began leaning into me. I closed my eyes and waited for our lips to meet. When they did, I smiled inwardly. His lips were soft against mine and I could feel his hand caressing my cheek. But . . . something was missing. Before I could figure out what it was, Brad gently pulled back.

"I gottah go or I'll be late fer work," he whispered breathlessly.

I nodded in response, not wanting to ruin the moment. He gave me one last kiss before leaving. _I need to talk to Suzie about this! _I thought as I raced up the stairs to her front door. I rang the bell about a million times before she answered.

"What?" she yelled at me in annoyance. "Oh, it's _you_," she said sarcastically as she rolled her eyes at me.

"Nice to see you too Suz!" I said cheerily as I walked in and sat on the couch. Suzie took a seat in the chair across from me. She was wearing light sea foam green pants and a black short sleeve shirt. Her dark brunette hair was pulled back in a messy bun, quite the opposite of my curly, dirty blonde hair. As she sat down, she pulled her legs under her so that she was sitting on her knees sideways.

"So, have I got news for you!" I told her excitedly.

"Wait, wait! Me ferst!" she said putting up her index finger.

I gave her a displeased look but gave in. "Fine!" I said in a defeated tone.

"Okay, but befo' I tell ya," she began, "You gottah agree to come with me to the Cavern tonight . . ."

"What? _Why?_" I asked in confusion.

"To see The Beatles!" she said as if I should have already known.

"Ugh. Suzie you know I can't stand them!" I said defensively. "Their leader thinks he's so smart, the guitarist is afraid of his own shadow, Paul thinks he's God's gift to women and that drummer has no rhythm whatsoever!"

At that exact moment, someone walked in from the kitchen and set down a tray of tea on the table in between Suzie and me. I looked up in horror at him. His light blue eyes were full of hurt as he stood up straight. He walked toward Suzie and sat on the arm of her chair as he began playing with one of his many rings. Suzie rubbed his arm softly trying to console him.

He finally looked up at me and quietly asked, "So ya say I got no rhythm, do I?"

I only stared at him with my mouth wide open. Ringo Starr was the last person I expected to be in Suzie's house . . . and the last person I expected to insult. Now, I had to own up to it.

_Why must I always get myself into these situations? _

**Bet ya didn't see that coming! Soooo what's Ringo doing at Suzie's? Will Michelle find out what's missing with Brad? And will Michelle go to the Cavern? Review to find out! Seriously, review! It's the only thing that keeps me going! If no one reviews, that makes me think people aren't liking it and so I don't feel like updating as quickly as I could. So for Beatles' sakes, REVIEW! XOXOXO**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hullo! That was my George Harrison impersonation. Like et? Yeah, I know ya do!**

**Sooooooo sorry for the long wait! I've just been busy and lazy and insane lately! So thank you to everybody that reviewed and subscribed! You guys make my day with your awesome comments and shtuff! I hope you guys like this chapter. It took me a while and I promise there will be more in the next chapter. I had to end it where it is now to leave you guys with a cliffhanger. . . well sort of a cliffhanger. . .Well, ENJOY! **

I continued to stare at Ringo. He had hurt written all over his face. Before I even thought of something to say, I began babbling like an idiot.

"I-I-uh-"

"Ringo, this is Michelle," Suzie told the boy sitting next to her. "She's the one who's not particularly fond of you guys."

Ringo nodded as if he remembered all of a sudden. "Oh, right. . .the American one!" he said looking at me.

"Yeah," I said, still feeling guilty. "I'm sorry I insulted you and your band; I just wasn't expecting you to walk in. . ." I trailed off and looked down at my chipped nail polish. _Great! Now I made it sound like I'd insult him even if he wasn't here! _

"'S all right!" Ringo said cheerfully. "I've 'eard worse!"

Boy, could he bounce back fast!

"So, uh how do you two know each other?" I asked them.

Suzie immediately perked up at my question. She giggled before answering me.

"See, that's my big news I wanted tah tell ya!" she exclaimed, her voice getting louder and louder. But then her voice got quiet again.

"Me and Ringo are. . ." she looked down at her feet awkwardly. Ringo reached for her hand and finished her sentence.

"A couple!" he stated happily as he held her hand.

"Yeah!" Suzie confidently agreed. She looked up at Ringo, who started leaning into her. Before they could kiss, though, I interrupted them.

"WHAT! Since when?" I yelled loudly.

Suzie and Ringo looked at me in bewilderment. Ringo stood up and said he had to use the bathroom. I knew he was only leaving to give me and Suzie a few minutes alone.

"Well," Suzie began. "Ya know how I've been goin' to the Cavern Club a lot? Well, me and Ringo met one night aftah they played and things just . . . 'appened. . ."

"And you didn't tell me?" I said.

"I'm tellin' ya now, aren't I?" Suzie shouted back.

"Omigoodness! Suzie I'm so happy for ya!" I said with a big smile.

"Really?" her friend asked skeptically. "Yer not upset?"

"No! This is great!" I told her sincerely.

I was a little hurt that she hadn't told me sooner. At the same time, though, I was ecstatic for her. She deserved this. Someone to call her own, someone to spoil her, someone to make her happy. Why couldn't I have that? _Oh right . . . I have Brad. . ._

As I thought about this, I noticed Suzie giving me an expectant look, like she was waiting for me to say something.

"What?" I asked puzzled.

"Yer big news?" she said impatiently.

"Oh, right!" I said trying to sound enthusiastic.

For some reason, my news wasn't as exciting as it had been ten minutes ago.

_Maybe I should just tell her later. . ._

No, that wouldn't be right. She was my best friend and she deserved to know. Plus, if I told her about Brad maybe that would reassure me of the choice I'd just made . . . right?

"Well, on the walk over here," I began, but soon stopped when Ringo returned.

I didn't want to reveal my new relationship in front of him. He was a complete stranger! I decided to continue the conversation when it was more private.

"I'll tell you later," I told Suzie.

She nodded understandingly.

Ringo seemed oblivious to the fact that he'd just walked into our conversation. He simply returned to where he had been sitting earlier, drinking his cup of tea. After taking a long sip, he looked at me with wide eyes.

"So ya coming to the Cavern tonight?" he asked.

Suzie looked at me with pleading eyes. "Please Michelle?" she begged.

I really didn't know what I wanted to do. All I could think of was Paul. If I went to the club tonight, I would have to see him. He'd probably remember me too because, after all, who could forget some girl that climbed through your bathroom window? He'd most likely tell everyone that story as soon as he saw me. Then Suzie would become angry that I hadn't told her. On the other hand, Suzie would be angry if I didn't go either. She'd call me a lousy friend and say I don't have enough fun.

There was only one way to put off the argument with Suzie as long as possible. . .

"Okay," I sighed. I gave the couple a small smile trying to seem joyful.

"Yay!" Suzie squealed as she stood up clapping her hands. "Ya won't regret it!"

_Oh, I beg to differ!_

**That night:**

As I walked into the crowded club, I could hear the sound of the boisterous band. The brick walls around me vibrated from the music. Guitar riffs rang in my ears while my heart beat along with the drums. I finally recognized the song. Paul's voice filled the room with the lyrics to _Shimmy Shake _while John backed him up.

I peered through the thick smoke, but I could barely see the quartet on stage. That was good. I could delay a second meeting with Paul. Maybe I could even leave before they started mingling with the audience after they finished.

From the corner of my eye, I saw someone waving at me from across the room. It was Suzie. She was seated at a booth against the wall. I returned the wave and started making my way over to her.

Because of the huge crowd, I bumped into a number of people. Most of them gave me dirty looks as I tried to apologize. It didn't help that I felt a little self conscience too. I had worn a black dress that was a little above my knees. That wasn't what was bothering me, though. What bothered me was that I didn't remember it being so low cut . . . and every guy I passed stopped to stare at me. Or should I say my chest? At least my dress was modest compared to what the other girls in the joint were wearing.

"Hey!" I said to my friend as I sat down. Well, more like yelled because of all the noise.

"Hiya!" she greeted with a big smile.

I could tell she was ecstatic. She looked back to the boys on stage and moved with the music. I knew she was staring at the drummer because she flushed when he looked her way.

I couldn't believe how Suzie was acting. She was never one to be mushy or girly for that matter. Seeing her in love was like witnessing a miracle. But it made me happy too.

When the song ended, the crowd exploded into cheering and applauding.

"Yeah, give it up for Paulie, ladies and gents," John said into the microphone. "'E does pretty well fer a pretty boy!"

John laughed at his own joke while Paul flipped him off. The audience ate it up like candy. They loved how the boys insulted and abused one another. I simply rolled my eyes at the whole thing. Suzie gave me a disappointed look.

"They really are a lot of fun once ya get tah know 'em," she told me.

"Yeah," I scoffed. "Right after they get you arrested!"

"Yano, Michelle," she said annoyed, "Judgin' people befo' meetin' them isn't right."

I just rolled my eyes at her and stood up.

"I'm getting at drink. You want anything?" I asked.

"No. . ." she said a little hurt.

I stormed my way over to the bar and ordered a beer. Due to my irritation, I forgot I wasn't in America and asked the bartender for a Budweiser.

"Uh, sorry luv. I don't believe I know what that is," he said trying to be courteous.

I gave the scruffy guy behind the bar a stern look.

"Fine, I'll have a Guinness then." I said with a hint of distaste in my voice.

He handed me my drink, but before I could pay for it someone else did. The person had appeared at my side out of nowhere and handed the bartender his money. I looked up at the slightly taller boy and immediately regretted buying the cold drink in my hand.

***GASP!* Who is it! Got any guesses? Let me hear 'em in a review! Thanks! XOXOXO**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello people of fanfiction! Sorry to keep you waiting so long! But this is a nice long chapter so I hope it makes up for my absence! Now, I'd like to thank my reviewers: *snaps* to Flowerchild17, vickytmandy, ****Octopuses gardener, Sarah, Ece, and xxPaulMccartneylovexx for your lovely comments! So without further ado, enjoy!**

He was smiling down at me, trying to see if I recognized him. Of course I did. I was just so astonished to see him. I hadn't noticed that the band had stopped for a break. It didn't help that he looked absolutely stunning either. He glistened from the thin layer of sweat that coated his skin. I could tell the adrenaline hadn't worn off from performing on stage.

"Mi-chelle, isn't it?" he asked, stressing the first part of my name.

"Yes, and you're Paul McCartney," I said trying to sound friendly. "Thanks for the drink."

"No problum," he replied puzzled, "I didn't know ya were a fan o' us. . ."

"Oh, well," I began, trying to explain my situation, "My friend's more of your fan than I am."

"Oh, really?" he asked leaning against the bar.

_Does he sound . . . disappointed? _

"Uh, yeah. I think you know her," I said pointing to Suzie.

"Oh, that's Ringo's gurl, yeah?" he asked looking at my friend.

"Yeah, I should probably get back to her. . ." I said becoming a little uncomfortable. I could never really hold a conversation for very long, especially with an attractive member of the opposite sex.

"Okay," Paul agreed wiping the sweat from his brow. "Well, I'm glad tah see ya didn't get lost again, Michelle!"

I could feel my cheeks growing pink as I giggled at our private joke. _What am I doing? I have a boyfriend!_

"Me too," I replied smiling, "Well, I'll see ya later."

"Alright, I'll be listenin' for ya cheering me on," he said winking at me.

I hurried back to Suzie before he could see me blushing again. I sat down across from my friend, hoping to avoid questions. Let me just tell you, hoping does nothing.

"Why were ya talkin' tah _Paul McCartney_?" Suzie questioned with a raised eyebrow and a smirk playing on her lips.

"Uh, well, um" I stuttered, not making eye contact.

"Spit it out already!" she shouted in her think accent.

"I know him, okay?" I returned, yelling.

"You _know _'im? What the 'ell does that mean?" she retorted angrily. "I thought you despised 'im?"

"I did! I mean I _do_!" I was tripping over my words as if I was on a verbal obstacle course. "I just . . . ran into him one day and, and this is only the second time we've talked so please don't be upset!"

"Hmmm," Suzie seemed to be thinking. "You fancy 'im."

"What? I do _not_!" I said defensively.

I could once again feel the blood rushing to my cheeks. Without thinking, I blurted out, "I happen to have a boyfriend, for Christ's sake!"

I had never seen Suzie's facial expression change so fast. It went from one of mischief to surprise to contempt. It was obvious that she was annoyed with me, and I couldn't blame her. I hadn't told my best friend about my new relationship as soon as it had happened. That was almost as bad as dating her ex-boyfriend. I deserved whatever outburst was awaiting me.

"You have a _boyfriend_?" Suzie asked trying to remain calm.

"Yeah, I uh was gonna tell you earlier when we were at your house, but . . . Ringo was there," I said playing with the corner of a napkin.

"Oh, I see," she said understandingly. "So who is it?"

I couldn't believe she wasn't screaming at me. But Suzie wasn't one to freak out really. Plus, she knew the whole situation now, so there was no reason for her to be upset.

"It's Brad," I looked up as if seeking approval.

Suzie smiled happily at me. "Aw! I knew you two would get togethah soon! Congratulations!"

"Thanks!" I said, trying to sound excited.

It was more for me than for my friend. That hopeful feeling I got when someone said his name or when I thought of him was gone. It seemed like the butterflies in my stomach were dead unless Paul was around. _Wait. Wait a minute. What? What am I saying? I like Brad, not Paul! _

I propped my elbows up on the table and began rubbing my temples. This whole situation was giving me a headache. I closed my eyes to relax. But as soon as it was dark, I heard Paul's voice from the stage. My eyes snapped open as soon as he started speaking into the microphone. _Damn it!_

"Hullo, ladies and gents!" he said as he gracefully slid his bass over his shoulder. "Hope ya didn't miss us too much!"

"I know they missed me, but I dunno 'bout you McCharmly!" John grinned cheekily.

"Ah, shut it Lennon!" Paul waved his hand dismissively at the rhythm guitarist as he looked back at the captivated crowd.

"The next song we're gonna play is _Like Dreamers Do_," he said smiling.

And that's when I saw it. He winked at me, as if to personally dedicate the song to me. And somehow . . . I loved it. I know that's awful to say, but it's true. I mean, here's this gorgeous guy singing this adorable song to me. Wouldn't any girl want that?

This was the moment I fell for Paul McCartney. The boy I had hated for so many months. The boy who I thought was a womanizing pig. The boy who I thought didn't care about music. How wrong I was.

As I dreamily stared back at Paul, Suzie grabbed my arm and led me to the sleazy bathrooms in the back.

"What the hell, Suz?" I shouted, once the door closed behind us.

"What the 'ell is right, Michelle!" she yelled back at me. "You just told me ya got a boyfriend and now yer flirtin' with Paul, who ya said ya hate!"

"Oh, please! I was not _flirting_!" I denied, even though I knew she was right.

"See! Yer denyin' it! That's the first sign!" Suzie exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at me.

"Suzie," I said calmly while glancing in a mirror to fix my hair. "I'm not denying anything; I'm only stating a fact. Paul means nothing to me."

I looked back at my friend. She stared at me with a disbelieving glare and crossed arms. She knew I was lying, but I just couldn't admit my feelings for Paul. Not that I had feelings. It was more like a small crush, nothing more.

"Now, can we please go enjoy the rest of the gig?" I asked with a hint of annoyance.

She turned around and headed for the door without answering me. Well, at least that was over. Now I could enjoy the rest of the night without anymore interruptions or distractions. But like I said before, hope does nothing.

When the boys had played their last song and said goodnight to the audience, I thought I could slip out easily. Too bad Suzie had to be dating the drummer. Ringo invited her and me backstage to see the rest of the band. I tried to leave, but truthfully I wanted to see Paul.

I could feel the butterflies taking flight in my stomach as Ringo led us behind the stage. The three of us entered a medium sized room with two beat up couches pushed up against opposite walls and a few folding chairs leaning against them. The quiet lead guitarist was in the corner, carefully putting away his instrument while John was straddling a chair, guzzling down some alcohol I didn't recognize. Paul was sitting on the couch until he spotted me. He stood up so fast as if there was a fire in the room.

"Hiya Rings!" he greeted with a smile. "I see ya brought some guests?"

"Yeah, you lot know me gurl Suzie and this is 'er friend Michelle," Ringo introduced me.

I gave a small smile to everyone else in the room. John put down his drink and eyed me up a down.

"Well, 'ello luv!" he said with a smirk. "I'm the leader of this band, the name's Lennon, John Lennon."

"Don't bother with the likes of 'im," Paul joked as he took his hand in mine.

I shivered at his touch. His skin was so warm and inviting, I never wanted to let go. Fortunately, no one noticed my reaction . . . or maybe they did, but knew to keep quiet.

He offered me a seat on the couch as he led me there. Once we sat down, Ringo and Suzie sat on the opposite couch facing us. I knew my friend was giving me a dirty look, but I ignored her. I wasn't going to let her ruin my fun. It wasn't like I was cheating on my boyfriend. Anyways, I had invited Brad to the Cavern with us, but he couldn't come. He had to work a late shift at his uncle's restaurant and insisted I go without him. So technically, Brad would have wanted this . . . right?

As these thoughts raced through my head, John stared at me and Paul perplexed. His auburn eyebrows were knitted together in confusion. Paul noticed this and spoke up.

"What's the mattah Johnny?" he asked.

"How come you get the new gurl? What if she's 'ere fer me?" he asked with a drunken glaze over his eyes.

"Because Michelle and I have a prior relationship to this meeting, John," Paul answered very politely.

I knew he was mocking John because he was drunk, but I still had to giggle. Paul noticed this and wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me into him. I blushed at his playfulness as his fingers began to dance designs on my bare shoulder. John soon became bored with us and turned his attention back to his bottle.

Before me and Paul could be left alone, the lead guitarist walked over to the bassist and sat on the arm of the couch.

"Michelle, this is George," Paul said introducing us.

_George, so that's his name!_

"Nice tah meet cha," he said shaking my hand.

"You too," I replied.

His large brown eyes became curious when I spoke.

"Where's that accent from?" George asked.

"Same place as me. America," I answered confidently.

"Really?" he said, "I'm visiting me sister there in September."

"Oh, where abouts?" I asked

"Uh, sum place called Illinois?" he answered.

"Oh, that's kind of in the middle of the country," I said. "I'm from the east coast."

"Michelle only moved 'ere a few months back with 'er mum and sister, right?" Paul looked at me for confirmation.

I shook my head, "Yup."

I was surprised Paul actually remembered that. I didn't really think he'd been listening to me last night. I thought he was just humoring the crazy girl that had broken into his home.

"Oh, well welcome tah Livahpool!" George exclaimed with a toothy grin. "Lovely, isn't it?"

Paul and I laughed at his sarcasm.

_I guess it really is the quiet ones you have to look out for!_

In the midst of our laughter, I felt something stroking my thigh. I looked down to see Paul's hand absent mindedly running up and down the fabric of my dress. Before I could do anything, Suzie stood up and shot over to me from across the room.

"Well, I think it's time fer us gurls to be headin' 'ome, now," she said yanking me up by the arm.

"Ya sure luv?" Ringo asked sounding disappointed as he stood up. "I mean, ya just got 'ere an' all. . ." He placed his hands on her waist trying to convince her to stay.

"I'm sorry Richie, but we really 'ave tah go," Suzie whispered looking up at him.

Ringo closed the distance between them with a soft kiss. It didn't last long before John yelled at them.

"Quit makin' out befo' ya make me hurl up me lunch!" he slurred drunkenly.

Suzie pulled away with a sigh as Ringo looked down at her apologetically.

"I'll see you lot latah!" she said to the boys behind Ringo. "Call me tomorrah," she told the drummer.

"Alright," he said with a small grin.

"Well, it was nice to meet you all!" I called as Suzie dragged me out the door.

I made eye contact with Paul one last time before the door closed to see him mouth the words _I'll miss you! _

**Oh, snap! What the fluff is going on here? Is Michelle seriously falling for Paul? How flirtatious is Paulie? What will happen with Brad? And how cute are Suzie and Rings? If ya got the answers, leave a review please! Or if you just wanna be a good person leave a review! Thanks and stuff! XOXOXO**


	5. Chapter 5

**Helloz! Sorry this took so long. I've been busy and dealing with ridiculousness! Anyways! This chapter is short, but I just couldn't add anything to the end. It just wouldn't flow right. So I hope you enjoy my very short chapter. I promise the next one will be longer and involve more Beatles! Aaaaannddd begin: **

As I got home that I night, I couldn't stop thinking about Paul. How his beautiful hazel eyes sparkled when they saw me, how his strong arm had felt around my shoulders, how his soft skin felt against mine. I just couldn't get him out of my mind. I kept replaying our last moments together over and over in my head.

I smiled at these thoughts as I quietly snuck upstairs to my room. I had taken off my shoes so they wouldn't make their usual _squeak _noise on the hard wood floor of the stairs. Once I had reached the top, I began to quietly hum _Like Dreamers Do_ to myself. But when I opened the door to my room, I immediately stopped. Lying on my bed was the last person I had expected. He sat up at the sound of the door closing and smiled at me. I forced myself to return the smile.

_Why does he have to be here __**now? **_I thought as he stood up to greet me.

He rested his hands on my hips as he leaned into me to place a soft kiss on my lips. I wish I could say that I enjoyed that moment, but it would be a lie. All I could think about was how Paul's lips would feel against mine. Maybe I just had to give Brad a chance. You could learn to love a person, right?

"I missed ya," he whispered after pulling away.

"I missed you too!" I whispered back. "How'd you get in here anyways?"

"Well, if I told ya that, it would take all the romance out of the night!" he answered with a cheeky grin.

I rolled my eyes at him and grudgingly giggled at his joke. He gave me a concerned look.

_Does he know I'm not being genuine?_

"What's a mattah, luv?" he asked caressing my cheek with his hand.

"Oh, I'm just tired from the Cavern," I lied. "Suzie had me dancing all night long!"

"Oh," he said still holding me. "She does adore those boys!"

"She really does!" I said breaking away from his embrace. "She's dating the drummer, ya know!"

"Reallly?" he asked surprised.

"Yeah!"

I began to tell Brad about Suzie's new relationship as I walked over to my closet to pick out a nightgown. It felt good to talk about her and Ringo. It took my mind off of Paul. When I finished, I told Brad I was going to change in the bathroom.

"Alright, but hurry back! It gets awfully cold in 'ere yano!" he whispered flirtatiously as I slipped out into the hallway.

I attempted to giggle at his comment, but it was just too difficult. While I changed in the bathroom, I wondered how long I could keep this act up. I finally came to a conclusion. I had to stay away from Paul. If he wasn't around, then I wouldn't be attracted to him and maybe I'd start to like Brad again. Simple enough, right?

When I got back to my room, exhaustion swept over me like a wave. I just wanted to crawl under my blankets and sleep. Unfortunately, Brad had other plans. As soon as I got back, he asked if he could stay the night. I wasn't surprised; it wasn't like I had never been with a guy. I did make it clear that I didn't want to do anything too drastic just yet. I mean, we had just started dating and I wanted to take things slow. Plus, there was the whole not-being-attracted-to-him thing . . .

It was difficult not to feel guilty lying there, cuddling with Brad. I was resting my head on his shoulder with his arm wrapped around me . . . just like Paul had done. I tried to push that thought away, but it was no use. Listening to Brad babble on about his day was just so boring. It was a wonder I didn't fall asleep as soon as he opened his mouth.

_I really am an awful person,_ I thought to myself.

How could I have like Brad so much one day and now find him completely dull? The idea just didn't make any sense! How could my feelings change for him after meeting another guy? Was I really that fickle? I hoped not!

"Am I borin' ya?" Brad asked with an amused look on his face.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" I said, embarrassed that I had yawned. "I'm just really tired is all."

"I can tell," he said kissing my forehead.

My eyelids fluttered shut as I gave him a small smile. I felt him reach over to shut off the light on my nightstand. _Click._

**So, what'd ya think? Is Michelle fickle? Should she end her relationship with Brad? Or should she try to make it work? And how do you think avoiding Paul will go? Tell me in a review please! Thanks! XOXOXO**


	6. Chapter 6

**Salutations my faithful readers! If you're still there, thank you! I've been SO lazy and . . . kind of busy that my writing kind of got put on hold. I apologize. I know how much some of you like this story and I really appreciate that! So, enough of my blabbering and enjoy chapter six!**

It had been a week since I had last see Paul at the Cavern Club. I felt like this whole avoiding him thing was working out pretty well. But . . . it didn't help that Brad still bored me to tears and that I thought about Paul every waking hour. Sometimes during the day I would think, "I wonder what he's doing right now?" I seriously needed an intervention!

At least I was on my own today, though. Brad had to work late tonight so hopefully he wouldn't visit me again. I couldn't stand his stories about the restaurant. I'd rather listen to Paul talk about his love of music or sing me another song. . .

Ugh, I needed to focus. Today was about being alone. Not fantasizing about Paul McCartney. He probably didn't even remember me. I was just one of his many girls that he sung to every night; that met him backstage. I bet he'd already slept with a few of those girls since he last saw me.

_Michelle, focus! _the little voice inside my head told me.

It was right of course. I was supposed to be out buying groceries and I had been roaming through the store for about a half an hour. I looked down at the list my mother had written. It was mostly basic needs that were scribbled on the small piece of paper like eggs, milk and bread.

After about 15 minutes, the gray basket I had been carrying was filled with the same items on the list. I made my way over to the cash register, paid for the groceries and left. My walk home wasn't too long and the bags I was carrying weren't too heavy either. The only problem was my purse. It kept sliding off of my shoulder while I carried the two paper bags in my hands. I stopped a few times to adjust it, but finally gave up when one of the brown bundles fell over.

As I collected the few things that had fallen out, I heard footsteps approaching. I didn't really think anything of it; I'd passed a few people on my walk home. Plus, it was an unusually beautiful day so people were taking advantage of the rarity.

However, I was surprised when I saw pitch black boots stop in front of me. I looked up at their owner and saw the person I'd been thinking about all week. His doe eyes stared back at me as he smiled.

"Need sum help?" he asked in his deep voice.

"Uh sure," I barely managed to say.

_No! You should have said no!_ the nagging voice told me. Too bad every inch of my being wanted to rebel against it.

Paul crouched down and started picking up the groceries that had escaped. Attempting not to stare at the bass player, I helped collect the things. But I couldn't resist sneaking a peek at his angelic face. Before he caught me, though, I looked away to grab the can of soup that was rolling away.

We stood up after picking up everything in an awkward silence. I wasn't sure if Paul remembered me or not. I mean, it'd been a week and he had probably had a different date every night since then. Nevertheless, I somehow found the will to speak.

"Thank you," I said noticing how nice he looked in a suit.

"Oh, yer very welcome!" he said with a charming smile. I had to keep my legs from going out from under me at that moment.

_Ugh, what is wrong with me?_

"Do ya need some 'elp carryin' these bags 'ome?" he asked.

"Ummm," was all I could manage to say.

Did this mean he _did _remember me? That he remembered that night he walked me home? That I wasn't just another forgotten girl in Paul McCartney's memory?

Paul raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow as he smirked at me.

"What?" I asked becoming nervous.

"You don't think I remember ya, do ya?" He was still smirking.

I could feel a blush spreading across my face. It was as if he could read my mind. His hazel eyes continued to stare at me as I thought of a witty reply. Sadly, I am not that witty. Just bitchy.

"Well, do you?" I asked with contempt while placing my free hand on my hip.

_Nice. Real friendly._

Fortunately, Paul chuckled at my question. "Of course I do! Yer Michelle! Ya broke into my 'ouse and then ya were at my band's gig!" he said casually taking an apple out of the grocery bag he was holding. He inspected it, then rubbed it on his black suit jacket and took a bite out of it.

"Ya mind?" he asked innocently.

Do I mind? Of course I minded! He was eating _my _food for _my _family that I'd bought with _my_ money! He had no right to go and do that!

"Um, kinda!" I said.

"Oh, sorray," he apologized sounding surprised. He was probably used to getting what he wanted exactly when he wanted it. I bet he'd never worked a day in his life and got everything without lifting a single finger.

"Well, I guess I owe ya an apple then!" He exclaimed winking at me again.

"Sure. . ." I agreed half heartedly. My disdain for Paul McCartney was slowly creeping back into existence.

"So, we uh bettah get all this grub tah yer 'ouse befo' it spoils!" He suggested.

"Uh, thanks but it's okay. I can handle it. My house isn't that far," I said trying to get rid of him.

"Nonsense! I insist!" He said happily. "A pretty gurl like yaself shouldn't be walkin' the streets of Livahpool by 'erself yano!"

He began walking away while I just stood still in astonishment, watching him.

_Did he just call me "pretty"? _

No, that wasn't what was important! What was important was he thought I couldn't take care of myself! Well, did I have a thing or two to tell him!

Paul finally noticed I wasn't following him. He turned around and gave me a puzzled look.

"Ya comin' or whut?"

"Uh, yeah. . ."

I somehow regained the ability to move my feet. Maybe it was all the annoyance and aggravation Paul McCartney was causing me. He was becoming more irritating that cute to me now. I couldn't stand him. What I needed to do was get my groceries back from him and run home! But . . . part of me still wanted to be near him. Was I conflicted or what?!

"I'll have you know I can take care of myself perfectly fine!" I told him when I had caught up.

"What're ya on about? I nevah said ya couldn't!" he defended himself while taking another bite of the apple.

"You _implied_ it," I explained trying to pry the paper bag out of his grip.

Paul simply chuckled and smiled down at me. Not that I was that short. I was the tallest girl in my class until about fifth grade. Then everything evened out. Now I'm just your average 5'5'' girl. But still. Paul was almost 6 feet tall if I had to guess. Even with his height, though, he still didn't intimidate me.

I furrowed my eyebrows at him as I tore the bag from his hands. He looked a bit taken back by this.

"Now, thank you for your help, but I can make it home by myself without an escort," I told him calmly, but assertively.

His eyes became wide after saying this. I simply gave him a small smile and turned around to begin my walk home again.

_Good, _I thought _Now he knows I have no interest in him whatsoever!_

And yet . . . I felt a little guilty. I mean, he was only trying to _help_ and I'd been a total bitch to him! But maybe that's what he deserved. He had to realize sometime that his charm on women didn't always work. So really, I was doing him a favor! Yeah, a favor!

I smiled at this thought, but was shortly interrupted by the sound of footsteps behind me. Less than a second later, Paul was right next to me again.

_Ugh, I knew it wasn't that easy!_

"Why are you following me?!" I exclaimed with irritation.

"Uh I live down 'ere . . . remembah?" he said with a blasé expression. "Why're _you _bein' so paranoid?" he asked attempting to take the grocery bag back from me.

"_I _am not being paranoid!" I answered yanking the bag of food back.

"Oh, I see whut the problem is," Paul said with a knowing look.

"What's the problem then?" I asked pretending to be interested while I continued walking, not even looking at him.

"Yer embarrassed!" he stated casually, as if everyone knew this.

"_Embarrassed? _Of what?!"

"Oh yano, last week! At The Cavern!"

I stopped dead in my tracks. Was he being serious? Paul stopped also and turned to face me.

"What the hell are you talking about? Why would I be embarrassed because of what happened at The Cavern?!" I fumed.

"Calm down luv! Ya gettin' all red fer nuthin'!" He said acting as if he actually cared about me.

"_Don't _call me that!" I stated narrowing my eyes at the dark haired boy.

"Aw, come on Michelle! I didn't mean tah get ya all upset!" he pleadingly apologized whilst making a sad puppy dog face.

I simply rolled my eyes at him. He was exasperating me! How I ever thought he was cute was a mystery to me! I started walking away without saying a word to him. Before I got far though, Paul grabbed my arm. Not with force, but gently. I could feel the calloused finger tips graze my warm skin as he wrapped his hand around my arm. I didn't let this phase me though.

I whipped my head around at him. "Can I help you?!" I practically screamed in his face.

"Not if ya keep yellin' at me!" Paul said sternly as he let go of my arm. His expression was suddenly serious. I was a bit frightened by this quick change in his mood.

"Sorry . . ." I said quietly not meeting his eyes.

"Ya don't 'ave tah say that just . . . answer me this: what 'appened tah the Michelle that I met at the club? Whur'd she go? Cos right now, she isn't 'ere," he said. He gestured to me after saying the last part.

I was speechless. Why did he care why I was being so rude? He couldn't possibly need me. He had all the girls in the country at his disposal; what was one less? Unless . . . he really did like me. I mean, hadn't he mouthed "I'll miss you" to me last week when I'd left last week? And he had winked at me before singing _Like Dreamers Do. . . _Ugh, what was I talking about? Paul didn't like me. He was just a pathological flirt who couldn't help himself.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said matter-of-factly.

"Mmhm, well I think ya know exactly what I'm talkin' about. And I think yer simply afraid tah get close tah people. Ya let yer guard down fer a night, and then the next time I see ya, it's back up again!"

I looked up at this boy who I'd only met three times. How could he tell all of that from me? I wasn't putting up a front, was I? I thought I had been being pretty open to everyone I knew. . .

"Th-that's not true!" I stammered trying, but failing to defend myself.

Paul ignored me by simply continuing on his train of thought: "Michelle, I know I 'aven't known ya fer that long . . ."

Oh, no. This sounded just like when Brad had asked me to be his girlfriend!

"But I really want tah get tah know ya. So if ya wouldn't mind knockin' down those walls ya put up tah protect yaself, I'd really appreciate it. I really like ya Michelle."

I looked up to see if he was joking. He wasn't. His eyes were staring at me, waiting for my reply. But . . . I couldn't formulate one. I didn't know how I felt about him! I'd hated him, then liked him and now hated him again! I couldn't tell him this. So instead, I did the cowardly thing. I bailed.

"Um . . . I really have to get these groceries home, Paul. I'll uh . . . see you later," I said staring anywhere, but into his eyes.

I turned and hurried down the street, not caring that my purse was once again slipping off my shoulder. All that mattered was getting as far away from Paul McCartney as possible.

**What the what just happened?! Does Michelle really hate Paul now? Will Paul try to change her mind? And what about Brad? I'd love to hear what you guys think in a review! Ideas and suggestions always welcome too! Till next time XOXOXO**


	7. Chapter 7

My thoughts were frazzled. No. _I _was frazzled. How did Paul know all that about me? I didn't put walls up to protect myself from getting hurt, did I? And did he really like me? It was just all too overwhelming. I needed someone to talk to about my encounter with Paul yesterday. I decided to go see Suzie. She'd know what to do.

The sunshine felt warm and soothing on my pale skin as I walked to her house. I had lost some color since I'd moved to Liverpool. The sun was always trapped behind a thick wall of dark clouds here, so it was impossible to get a tan. But today was almost as beautiful as it had been the day before. The only difference was the slight breeze that gave me a chill every time it blew.

_I should've worn a sweater, _I thought while brushing my unruly hair out of my eyes.

When I finally reached Suzie's house, I noticed her parents' car was gone. That was a bit odd since they were usually home on Sunday mornings. Suzie was probably home though.

I rang the door bell and waited a few seconds. No answer. I rang again. Still no answer. Maybe Suzie had gone somewhere with her parents. Before I left, I decided to try knocking on the door instead of ringing the bell. To my surprise, the door finally opened and boy was I shocked. Standing in the doorway was Suzie, wearing a slightly oversized chestnut brown pajama shirt. A _man's _pajama shirt. My mouth dropped at the sight.

"Uh, hiya!" Suzie said with a guilty smile.

"Suzie! Wh-what is this?!" I exclaimed gesturing to her appearance.

"Umm. . .I dunno what ya mean. . ." she avoided my eyes as she tried to smooth out her untidy hair.

I placed my hands on my hips in a huff. "You don't know what I mean?!" I raised my voice. "Look at you! You're in a man's shirt, your hair's a mess and is that a hicky on your neck?!" I pointed accusingly to the blue mark below her ear.

Suzie shushed me while grabbing my arm to pull me inside.

"Will ya quit screamin'? The whole neighbahood doesn't need tah know 'bout me sex life yano!" she whisper-yelled at me while closing the door behind her.

"You're sleeping with him already?! Don't ya think it's a bit too soon for that Suz?!" I asked with a hint of contempt in my voice.

Suzie sat down on the couch, rubbing her eyes and groaning. "See, this is why I didn't wanna answer the door when I saw it was you! I knew ya'd be upset with me. . ."

"Upset? _Upset?! _I am past upset Suzie! I'm-"

"Will ya please keep yer voice down?!" she interrupted. "He's still asleep!"

"He's _still _here?! Aren't your parents going to be home soon?!" I asked, not bothering to lower my voice.

"Sh!" Suzie put a finger to her lips reminding me to be quiet. "No, they won't be 'ome till tahnight. They went on 'oliday this weekend; that's why me and Richie spent the night tahgether. Now will ya please shut it?"

Sighing heavily, I slumped into the chair across from Suzie.

"Can't believe you," I stated practically glaring at her as she attempted to put her hair up.

Suzie's mouth dropped open as she finished with her hair. She looked as though she'd cry at any second. Her miserable expression started making me feel guilty. I hated seeing her sad, but I hated being the cause of her sadness even more. Truthfully, I didn't even know _why _I was so angry with her. . .

"Why're ya makin' me feel so bad 'bout this? It's not like you've nevah done it befoh!" Suzie questioned me. I could hear the hurt in her voice; I knew I had to apologize.

"I know . . . I'm sorry Suz," I started. "I just . . . I'm just a little surprised is all! I didn't think you two were that serious!"

"Oh . . . I guess I shoulda told ya huh?" she asked looking sheepishly.

"No! Not at all! It's _your _relationship; I have nothing to do with it!" I reassured her.

"Yeah?" she asked looking a bit happier.

"Mmhmm," I answered nodding my head. "Now . . . how was it?!"

Suzie's eyes went wide as she exploded into a fit of giggles. "Miiiichelle!"

"_What?!_" I asked chuckling as well. "It's a legitimate question!"

She threw a pillow across the room, hitting me square in the face. This only made us laugh more causing Suzie to snort in between her cackles. Yes, Suzie snorted when she laughed.

We stopped when we suddenly heard a door click shut from upstairs. Footsteps patted on the hardwood floor as they made their way to the stairs. When I heard the steps creaking from Ringo's weight, I glanced over at the staircase by the front door.

"Oh . . . hullo!" Ringo greeted awkwardly when he noticed me.

I smiled in return at the drummer. He was suffering from a serious case of bed-head and drowsiness. He yawned loudly as he made his way over to the couch where Suzie was sitting. He was wearing chestnut brown pajama pants, but was missing his shirt obviously. Wrapping his arm around Suzie, he said, "I didn't know ya 'ad company!"

"It's alright, it's only Michelle," she joked. "Ya remembah 'er, right?"

"Course I do!" Ringo said. "Paulie won't quit talkin' bout 'er!"

I sat up straighter at hearing Paul's name. He couldn't stop talking about me? He was discussing me with his band mates? Butterflies took flight in my stomach as I grew hopeful. _Maybe he does really like me after all! _

"Wha-what?" I asked still not believing my ears.

I couldn't help but notice Suzie looking at me suspiciously. Her eyebrows were slightly furrowed together trying to discern the reason for my excitement. I simply ignored her confused glare.

"Oh yeah! The boy's always talkin' 'bout ya!" Ringo said casually. "'E's been tryin' tah get me tah ask Suzie 'ere to bring ya tah our gigs and practises!"

"Really?" I said leaning forward in my chair a little.

"Yup! Which gives me an idea!" he said cheerfully. "Ya should come tah our gig on Friday at the Cavern! Paulie would sure be pleased!"

"I dunno if that's such a good id-" Suzie began.

"Actually," I said, cutting off Suzie. "I'd love to go Ringo."

"Gear!" Ringo smiled.

Unfortunately, my friend wasn't as delighted as her boyfriend. She turned to him and asked if he wanted any tea.

"I'd luv a cuppa hon," Ringo answered giving her a kiss on the cheek.

Suzie turned to me as she stood up from the couch. "Michelle could ya 'elp me in the kitchen?"

I could tell by the look in her eyes that she didn't really need assistance with the tea. Granted, anybody could make a simple cup of tea by themselves! Nevertheless, I followed her submissively like a small dog.

Once we were alone in the kitchen, she grabbed the tea kettle off of the stove and began filling it with water. Suzie seemed a bit irritated as she turned the faucet on and off, as if the knobs had done her a serious wrong. But I knew what was actually bothering her–me.

After setting the full tea kettle on the warming stove, Suzie turned around to face me. She leaned against the counter eyeing me. I sat down at the oval shaped kitchen table hoping to avoid her glower. There were beautiful flowers in the middle of the table, some of which hadn't bloomed yet. I noticed that the water in the vase hadn't been changed in a while, for it was a little cloudy.

"You should change the water in there," I suggested, pointing at the vase.

Suzie simply narrowed her eyes at me in response.

"What?!" I asked exasperated.

"You _know _perfectly well what!" she practically yelled at me.

"I'm afraid not," I said with an innocent smile.

Suzie marched her way over to the table and viciously pulled out the chair next to me. As she sat down, she said, "Ya can't go tah the gig!"

"And why not?"

"Well first off, ya said ya hated The Beatles! And second, ya only wanna go tah see Paul! I mean, what 'bout Brad? Aren't you two togethah?"

"Of course we are! Hence, _why_ would I have any interest in Paul? I have Brad!"

I know. I'm a liar. But Suzie was so angry and I'd only make it worse if I told her the truth. She wouldn't understand; she'd only yell causing me to feel worse. So denial was my only option.

"You may _have _Brad, but you _want _Paul!" she accused.

"Suzie!" my mouth dropped open at this. I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

"I'm only saying what I think!" she defended herself.

"Well, you're wrong!" I lied.

"Am I? Cos the way ya act 'round 'im and the look ya get in yer eyes when someone mentions 'im makes me think differently," she told me, looking me straight in the eye.

I knew she was right but . . . I desperately wanted to pretend she wasn't. I looked away from her cold eyes and stood up. I suddenly didn't want to talk to her anymore.

"I should go. My sister's probably worrying about me," I told her awkwardly.

"Ugh, Michelle!" Suzie groaned.

She didn't stop me though. I walked out of the kitchen and through the living room to the front door. Ringo asked why I was leaving so soon. I simply told him I didn't feel good.

He said, "Get bettah soon so ya can come to our gig on Friday!"

I forced a chuckle and said I would. He gave me a wave as I walked out the door.

_Friday. . ._

Was I going? Suzie said I wasn't, but she couldn't control me. Although, I didn't want to release her wrath upon me. On the other hand, I really wanted to see Paul. I needed to apologize to him and figure out my feelings for him. Such a predicament.

I dwelled on these thoughts as I walked home. As I reached my house, I came to a solution. I would invite Brad to come with me to the gig! That way, Suzie would know I was committed to our relationship and I still got to see Paul.

Happy with my resolution, I lay down on the sofa in the den of my house and closed my eyes. I suddenly felt like I desperately needed sleep. After a few minutes, my breathing started to even out as my heart beat slowed. When slumber had almost taken over, I heard a knock on the front door.

_Really? _I thought. _Hmmm maybe if I wait a few minutes, they'll go away. . ._

Fat chance. The person just knocked again. And again. And again!

Groaning, I picked myself up off of the warm sofa. I wondered who could be at my door as I walked over to answer it. When I saw the person on the front step, boy did my mood change.


	8. Chapter 8

**Hello, my faithful readers! I am SO SO SO SO SO SO sorry for the long wait! Please forgive me! I've just been so busy and stressed and had REALLY BAD writer's block! So, I hope you enjoy this chapter. I worked really hard on it to get it just write for you guys! So I'll just up now so you can read! Enjoy:**

Our eyes met for a second before I looked away embarrassed. Hoping my cheeks weren't turning red, I began patting down my hair just in case it was a mess from lying on the sofa. He smiled at me, amused, like he knew I was trying to look good for him.

"Uh, hello!" I said a little too ecstatic.

"Hullo," he greeted quietly.

He wasn't his usually cocky self as he stood in front of me. Rather, he seemed nervous. I also noticed he was hiding something behind his back.

"Um, do you want to come in?" I asked attempting to be polite. I really didn't want to have a repeat of yesterday's fiasco.

"Uh, sure," he said hesitantly.

I turned to walk back in the house, but stopped as he spoke once more: "But first. . ."

His voice faded as if he was waiting for something. Curious, I turned back to face him.

"Yes?" I asked.

"Well, yestahday I said I owed ya an apple," he answered. "So this is fer you!"

Paul pulled his hand out from behind his back to hand me the apple. I couldn't help but smile and let out a small giggle at the sight of this. I'd completely forgotten how he'd eaten an apple, asked if I'd minded and said he owed me one when I became angry with him.

"Thank you," I said taking the apple from him.

Our fingers met for an instant; his soft skin grazing mine. I looked up at him once again and couldn't help but notice how handsome he actually was. The way his eyelashes fluttered as he blinked; the way his dark hair was swept to the side; the way his lips were always pursed . . . It made me long to become closer to him.

_Ugh! What am I thinking? He's just working his charm on me! Tell him to leave!_

Even though my thoughts told me to turn him away, I didn't listen. Something overpowered me – nothing significant though. Probably just hormones, I thought.

"Yer welcome!" he said, smiling an adorably toothy grin.

"So . . . do you still want to come in?" I asked again, avoiding his gaze.

"Of course!" Paul answered a bit more relaxed than before.

As I turned and entered the house, I could feel his eyes watching me from behind. Normally, I'd hate it, but for some reason . . . I didn't mind. Once again, I blamed it on hormones.

I led him to the sitting room, where he sat on the sofa I had been lying earlier. I debated whether or not to sit next to him for a moment. Then I decided to offer him tea instead, thinking that keeping my distance was the safer choice.

"Sure, I'd luv sum!" he said grinning up at me.

_Gah! Is he __**trying **__to kill me?!_

Trying to hide my blushing cheeks once more, I hurried to the kitchen. I fumbled around for a few minutes, finding tea cups, filling the tea kettle and spilling water on the floor. Why was I so nervous? Okay, so Paul McCartney was in my house. But still, I'd never been so jumpy when it came to boys. I was usually very calm and nonchalant. Hmmm . . .

I pondered over all this while cleaning up the spilled water on the floor. As I finished, I stood up to throw out the wet napkin in the trash can by the door that led to the living room.

When I was ready to return to Paul, I reached my arm out to open the swinging door. However, it opened on its own, nearly hitting me square in the face. I didn't realize what had happened until my face was right up against Paul's broad chest. He looked down at me as I took a step backward, feeling my face turning the color of a ripe tomato for the hundredth time that day.

"Sorry!" he offered with a casual smile.

"Oh, um it's alright!" I said trying to laugh it off. "I guess we both had the same idea!"

"Seems like it! So how's the tea coming along?" he asked walking past as if nothing had happened.

"Just put it on the stove," I answered preoccupied.

I couldn't believe how casual he was being! It . . . irked me! We'd just been so close; my face had been against his chest and all he was doing was sitting at my kitchen table like it hadn't happened at all! The nerve! Wait . . .

Why was I so angry with him? He hadn't done anything at all. He was probably just trying to move past the awkwardness was all. Maybe . . . I was actually upset with myself. But why? For inviting him in? For getting close to him? No, that would be ridiculous because nothing was going to happen. I was just being friendly; that was it.

Unless . . . I was frustrated he hadn't made a move on me . . . No! That definitely wasn't it! What was I thinking?! I have Brad and we're perfectly happy together!

Little did I know that I was lying to myself right then and there. And soon, the lies would have to stop and I'd have to let the truth reveal itself to me.

Attempting to push all these conflicting thoughts away, I joined Paul at the table. We both seemed to want to talk at the same time.

"Sorry," I said. "You go first."

"Oh, no," he said gesturing to me. "Ladies first."

I gave him a small smile before saying anything. "Well, I just wanted to apologize for yesterday. I was really rude an-"

"No, I ought tah be apologizin'," Paul interrupted. "I was pushy and should've left ya alone."

"You were only trying to help," I said quietly, defending him.

"True, but I should've left ya alone when ya told me to," he said looking down at his hands.

It was quiet for a moment. I didn't know what else to say since Paul had interrupted my apology. Fortunately, he spoke up again.

"I did mean it when I said I like ya, yano . . . and how I wanna get tah know ya bettah," he said softly, but steadily.

I listened to him, not wanting to interrupt.

"But . . . I had no right to say all that stuff 'bout ya puttin' walls up round yaself . . . that was really outta line. I'm real sorry fer that," he finished, making direct eye contact with me.

This time I couldn't tear my gaze from him. He spoke with such sincerity that I truly believed he meant what he said. It made me feel like I could tell him anything, that I could tell him the reason why I refused to get close to people.

"You don't need to apologize for that because," I began, "it's true. I do put walls up so people can't get close to me. I don't mean to . . . it just happens! I guess I started doing it right after my dad died . . ."

Paul nodded, remembering that the reason my family moved here was because of my father's death. I still didn't know why I had told him something so personal the first time I met him . . .

"I just didn't want to talk about him with anybody," I continued, "but all my friends either thought I should or simply treated me differently because they felt bad for me. I didn't want either of those things though, so I shut them out . . ." I paused, trying to fight back tears. I felt one slip out and slide down my cheek.

I couldn't let the tears stop me though, so I went on: "But I think the real reason I isolated myself was because I was afraid . . . afraid of losing anyone else that was close to me to death, so I just thought distancing myself would make it easier. I was wrong though . . . it only made things harder. Then when my mother and sister wanted to move, I didn't want to go. That's the strange part . . . I wanted to be away from everyone, but I couldn't stand the thought of possibly losing all my memories; not seeing my backyard where my dad would play tag with me when I was little, or walk down the street where he taught me how to ride a bike, or swim at the beach that we went to every summer as kids. . ."

I couldn't speak anymore. I was exhausted. Tears were flowing down my cheeks and quiet sobs were escaping from my mouth. I wasn't embarrassed in front of Paul, though. I felt relieved because I had finally let all that out, I'd finally let go . . . _finally._

I felt something warm and soft take hold of my hand. I opened my watery eyes and through my blurry vision saw Paul's hand holding mine. I didn't flinch or yank my hand away, as I might've a week or two ago. Instead, I let him comfort me in this small gesture.

Giving him a small smile, I mouthed "Sorry" to Paul. I let out a quiet chuckle as I wiped my eyes with the back of my free hand.

"Don't be sorry, luv," he practically whispered. "I know exactly what yer talkin' about."

I nodded in response. It was too soon for me to actually speak.

"Hey!" he whispered again, with wide eyes. "Ya didn't tell me not tah call ya 'luv'!"

Realizing this also, I let out a giddy laugh as a wide grin spread across Paul's face. He knew he'd made me feel better, but more importantly, he knew _how_ to do it too. That was what really touched me.

I suddenly knew everything that I'd thought about Paul McCartney was wrong. _I _had been wrong. And for once in my life, I'd never been so happy to be proven wrong. Now, I needed to find out the truth about him, who he really was and prove myself even more wrong.

Before I knew it, Paul's hand was no longer holding mine. He was standing up and heading for the tea kettle that was whistling wildly on the stove. He poured the hot water into the cups I had set aside earlier and brought them over to the table. I grasped the warm tea cup with both hands and carefully took a sip. A shiver ran through me and I realized how cold I was. Paul looked at me with tentative eyes.

"Too hot?" he asked.

"Oh, no, no! It's perfect." I answered with a soft smile.

We sat and drank our tea in silence for a few moments. I didn't want to ruin our time together with needless words. Talking wasn't always necessary to enjoy someone else's company.

After we had finished half of our tea, I decided to bring up Paul's band. I was sick of talking about me.

"So, I hear you and your band have a gig on Friday?" I said.

"Yeah, at the usual place, The Cavern," he paused before continuing. "Ya goin'?"

"I think I am," I answered, trying to be casual. However, I noticed how his eyes seemed to light up at my response.

_Had he worried I'd say no?_

"Gear," he sighed. "Ya goin' with Suzie again?"

"No . . . I'm going with someone else," I said hesitantly.

Paul raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Who?"

"Um, my boyfriend Brad . . ." I replied, looking up at him as if I were a guilty child.

Why was I so afraid to mention Brad to Paul? It wasn't like I was cheating on Brad with Paul! _Nothing _was going on between me and Paul! I knew that. But . . . maybe I had unsorted feelings for him? No . . . I couldn't . . .

Then again, Brad wasn't really living up to my expectations either. That wasn't his fault though! A relationship took time to grow and we just started dating. Yet . . . I felt more sparks by simply talking to Paul than I did when I kissed Brad. . .

While my head spun with fear of Paul's reaction to my news, I barely noticed my sister barge into the kitchen.

"Michelle! Where's. . ." Josie's loud voice quieted as her eyes rested on Paul. "Who're you?" she asked - rudely, I might add.

"I'm uh friend of Michelle's," he answered standing up from his chair. "I'm Paul McCartney."

"Oh . . . I'm Josie. Michelle's sister," Josie said.

"Nice to meet you Josie," Paul smiled.

Surprisingly, my sister returned the smile . . . and blushed a little. Yeah, you could say I was a tad bit jealous at that point.

Paul turned back to me as my sister went over to the refrigerator. "I should probably be going, Michelle. Me mates and I are meetin' up latah," he said.

"Oh, okay. I'll walk you to the door."

I led him out of the kitchen to the front door of the house in silence. Only our almost inaudible footsteps could be heard as we walked through the living room. I opened the door and stepped back to let Paul out.

"Thank you for the apple," I said unable to think of anything else to say.

"Yer very welcome," he winked.

"So, I'll see ya Friday?" I asked nervously.

"Mmhmm," he hummed as he stepped closer to me – a little too close.

I gazed up at his angelic-like face anxiously awaiting his next move. He was so near to me, I could smell his sweet scent of cigarettes and cologne. I knew what I was doing was so, very wrong, but truthfully . . . I didn't care.

However, Paul's next move surprised me. I looked down when I felt his hand take hold of mine once again. The only difference was how his fingers loosely intertwined with mine this time. Looking back up, I stared into his eyes as he leaned closer to me until his lips gently grazed my cheek. I closed my eyes until I felt his soft lips leave my skin.

"I hope you and yer boyfriend have fun on Friday," Paul said quietly. He gave me a sad smile and turned to leave, letting go of my hand.

I knew what he had said, but I couldn't believe it. He hadn't said it to be mean or cruel. He hadn't said it with a sarcastic or spiteful tone. He'd meant what he had said. And yet . . . I felt like I had hurt him more than I'd ever hurt anyone else.

**Awwww! Poor Paulie! Don't ya just wanna give him a hug? And what about Michelle? Do you think she should break up with Brad? And what will happen at the Cavern? Review to find out! Seriously, REVIEW! Or I won't update quickly! MUHAHAHAHAHAHA! *Ahem* Sorry! Till next time xoxoxo**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hello my lovely readers! Sorry I made you guys wait for this chapter! But I know it was worth the wait! It's one of the longest chapters I've ever written for a story! SO THERE! I worked hard for you guys so make sure you review, like these awesome peoples did last time: ****FiendishThingy00, Bridget, Sarah, InMyLife I Love You More and two guests. Thank you guys for reviewing last time and make sure you review again! GOT IT? REVIEW PEOPLE! Okay sorry, you can read . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . NOW!**

It was finally Friday, the day I had been dreading all week. Ever since Sunday, I had been afraid to see Paul. I stayed at home most of the time and only left when it was necessary. I felt so guilty for leading him on. What was I suppose to say to him the next time I saw him? Which was that night, in two hours, at The Cavern, where he was playing with his band. . .

_Ugh. Maybe I should just play sick. . ._

No, I couldn't. If I didn't show up, Suzie would know I was lying about not liking Paul . . . which I wasn't! It was just a crush! A passing fancy, was all! Nothing more.

I looked at the clock sitting on top of the television set. I only had an hour and 50 minutes to get ready before Brad came to get me.

_Better get in the shower. . ._

As I undressed and turned on the water, I realized I might not even have to talk to Paul. Brad and I didn't even have to stay long. We could simply show up for about an hour and then leave. Of course Paul would probably see me from the stage, but I could deal with that. As long as I didn't have to speak with him was all that mattered.

After showering, I stood in front on my mirror wondering what to do with my hair. I could possibly put it up, but I didn't like how that made my face look.

_Hmmm . . . I'll just let it dry naturally. Brad likes it that way. Brad. . ._

He had visited me almost everyday this week. He even stayed for dinner on Wednesday and had survived my obnoxious sister and nosy mother. In turn, they loved him and he didn't seem to mind them that much. I also found myself liking him more and more as the week went along.

On Monday, he had come over unexpectedly while I was still in my pajamas. I really hadn't wanted to see him; just the thought of him had made my heart sink. However, Brad was exactly what I had needed on that gloomy day. As we ate breakfast together that morning, I completely forgot about Paul. Sure the guilt resurfaced every now and again, but my thoughts weren't focused on the bassist. Instead, they were focused on Brad. He seemed to know something was amiss the moment he saw me, but instead of prying, he simply started cheering me up. That's what I liked about Brad; he knew if I wanted to talk about something, I would and if not, it should be left alone. Unlike Paul who had to badger me until I gave in. . . .

The rest of the week had been perfect. Brad and I would talk for hours, either at my house or while taking a walk, about practically everything. It was as if he knew all my dreams and hopes and every thought that passed through my mind. I couldn't think of anyone else who knew me like this except maybe my father. However, they were still different somehow. It was nice having these conversations again. . . They were simple and that's what I needed right now, simple.

I looked in the mirror once again. My favorite dark purple dress was hugging me in all the right places, creating the illusions that I actually had curves. I loved the dress and yet . . . it seemed too beautiful to be wasted at a rock 'n' roll club. And . . . I didn't want to give Brad the wrong idea. I mean, I really did like him but I wanted to wait until we were in love to actually take that step.

Therefore, throwing off my dress, I decided to wear pants instead. I pulled on my tight black pants and chose a sleeveless, somewhat low cut top to go with them. Taking one final glance in the mirror, I decided that I liked what I saw; my dirty blonde hair was wavy and curly with no frizz, my torso looked curvy and my pants gave me a butt! Before I headed downstairs, I applied a little eye shadow to make my green eyes more noticeable. _And . . . Done!_

I grabbed my jacket and exited my room with excitement building inside of me. It was my first night out as a couple with Brad and it was going to be great no matter what, I was certain of that. Nothing was going to ruin tonight, not even Paul.

With this positive thought in my head, I walked through the living room peeking at the clock again. I had about ten minutes before Brad came to pick me up. Entering the kitchen, I saw my sister cooking dinner for herself and our mother. This was her typical Friday night, spending it at home. I thought about inviting her to The Cavern earlier, but I knew she'd be uncomfortable. Clubs weren't really her scene. Actually, I had no idea what her scene was. . .

"Hey Josie?" I said leaning against the counter.

"Mmhmm," she answered, her attention on what was simmering in the pan.

"I just wanted to let you know I'm going out soon," I said staring at the cluttered kitchen table.

"Okay. When do you think you'll be back?" Josie asked turning around to face me. Her eyes narrowed as if daring me to lie to her.

_Such a mom_

"Ummm I don't really know," I answered biting my lip. "We'll probably be at The Cavern for an hour then go somewhere for dinner. That okay?"

Josie stared at me, trying to see if I was lying or not. She always thought I was up to no good whenever I went out with friends. I actually think she was just jealous that I had a life while she had to sit at home every night and do nothing.

"Yeah, I guess so," she finally said turning back to the stove. "Just be home around eleven. Mom worries, yano?"

"Sure she does. . ." I muttered under my breath.

"What?" Josie asked surprised as she turned back around.

Just then, there was a knock at the door.

"Oh, that's Brad! Gotta go! Love ya!" I said, rushing out of the kitchen putting on my jacket.

I stopped in front of the door before opening it to collect myself; I didn't want to look like I had been hurrying to get ready or seem like I was too eager for our date. Glimpsing in the small mirror next to the door, I straightened my shirt and fluffed my hair to look presentable. I opened the door and smiled at who was waiting for me.

"Hi!" I greeted happily, stepping closer to Brad to give him a kiss on the cheek.

"Hiya, Michelle!" he said taking my hand in his, "Ya look great! Ya ready?"

"Are ya kidding?" I asked rolling my eyes.

"That bad, huh?" he laughed as I stepped out of the house, closing the door behind me.

"She's ridiculous! She thinks she's my mother!" I complained walking down the steps.

"Eh, she just cares about ya is all."

"I know . . . but a girl needs space!"

"Well I certainly 'ope I'm not crowded ya precious space!" Brad joked with a mock expression of fear on his face.

"Hmmm. . ." I hummed playing along as I tapped my forefinger against my chin. "No, eh maybe a little bit!"

"'Ey!" he exclaimed.

"Sorry!" I said chuckling while he pretended to be hurt.

"Am I as bad as ya sistah?" he asked.

"Oh, no! She's far worse!"

"Oh, well that's alright then!" he said instantly cheering up.

I giggled at his antics. "You're such a fool!"

"A fool, huh? Well, if a girl as beautiful as yaself likes a fool such as me, I wouldn't wanna be anythin' else," he said smiling down on me.

"Good, cause I only like fools." I kissed him on the lips, hoping with excitement that I'd feel something. But . . . there was nothing. How could I feel absolutely nothing while Brad seemed to be over the moon for me?

Okay, I lied. I couldn't deal with Paul seeing me from the stage. Guilt enveloped me the moment his eyes locked with mine. It was as if he had sensed my presence the moment Brad and I had entered the club. I tried to find a booth near the back, but Suzie was already seated toward the band. Perfect.

Brad and I only danced to one song, _Twist and Shout, _while Suzie stayed in the booth, staring at Ringo. We talked the rest of the time, while the band continued to play for the screaming fans. Later, when the band was taking a break, I suggested that we leave to Brad.

"Aw, really?" he asked looking disappointed. "I thought we were 'aving a pretty good time. . ."

"We are! I just . . . wanted to make sure you weren't bored yet . . ." I tried explaining with a lame excuse.

"Bored? Do I look bored, luv?" he said chuckling and wrapping his arm around my shoulder.

I laughed along, struggling to seem sincere.

Suzie gave me a questioning look – she could always tell when I was hiding something. However, before she could interrogate me, Ringo came over and sat down next to her.

"Hullo, hon," Ringo whispered sweetly to Suzie as he kissed her on the cheek. Suzie blushed at his touch; it was so obvious how in love they were.

_Why can't I be like that when Brad kisses me?_

"Ritchie, this is Brad. 'E's Michelle's boyfriend," Suzie introduced the two.

Ringo turned to look at Brad while extending his hand. They shook hands as I apprehensively scanned the room for Paul. I really didn't want him coming over here and meeting Brad; it would be beyond awkward and uncomfortable.

"So Ritchie's ya real name?" Brad asked, making small talk.

"Yup, Ringo's just me stage name, aftah all me rings," he answered holding up his hands chuckling.

I could barely focus on the conversation; I needed to clear my head. The sound of everyone's voices and the thick cigarette smoke was getting to my head.

Excusing myself from the booth, I headed for the bathroom. As I passed the bar, I saw Paul sitting on a stool, talking to a bubbly red head. I felt my muscles tightened and my face flush. Was I . . . No, no. I just needed some space was all.

After splashing some cool water on my face and fixing my hair, I exited the bathroom. Paul was still there, chatting with that bimbo – I mean girl. I couldn't help but notice how many empty glasses were in front of him. He also wasn't acting like himself; he was loud, goofy and laughing at almost everything the read head said to him.

_Oh, no . . . he's drunk._

My stomach felt like thousands of butterflies had been released inside of it. _What if Paul comes over and talks to me in his drunken state? What if he mentions kissing my cheek? What if starts a fight with Brad? _

I needed to get out of there! Hurrying back to the booth, I noticed Ringo was gone.

"Where's Ringo?" I asked, still standing at the end of the table.

"'E 'ad tah get ready for the second set," Suzie answered.

"Oh, okay," I said.

I turned back to look at the bar and saw Ringo practically dragging Paul away from his date.

"Sumthin' wrong Michelle?" My head spun at the sound of my name. Brad was looking up at me quizzically. "Don't tell me ya wanna leave already."

"No! Ya can't go yet!" Suzie begged. "They're just getting' stahted!"

Looking at the two pleading faces in front of me, I inwardly groaned and sat down.

"I know! And that's why I'm not going anywhere!" I declared, trying my hardest to sound convincing.

Brad and Suzie seemed to buy my act of cheeriness. Fortunately, I didn't have to hold a conversation with them for very long. The Beatles had taken the stage once again. But something was off. John, George and Ringo had expressions of anxiety upon their faces while Paul was smiling like an idiot.

_This . . . is going to be ugly._

The boys somehow made it through the first few songs, but soon they were falling to pieces. Paul was stumbling over chords, wires, his own feet, and he was hardly singing. I could tell John was getting frustrated and angry. George seemed to be nervous, while Ringo was simply annoyed. Again, guilt was creeping into my conscience. I felt as if Paul's drunkenness was my own fault.

_No . . . I'm just beating myself up. He isn't my responsibility. _

After watching the boys struggle for what seemed like hours, John finally said goodnight to the audience and stormed off stage. The rest of band followed him, George and Ringo helping Paul off stage.

Now was my chance to escape; Paul was still backstage and probable wouldn't be out for a while. I looked at Brad sipping his beer.

"Well, that was a bloody mess. . ." Suzie sighed, slumping in her seat. I had forgotten she was even there.

"Yeah . . . I'm sorry Suz. . ." I said, trying to think of the right words to comfort her.

"'S alright," she replied looking up. "I just 'ope Lennon doesn't take out 'is angah on Ringo. . ."

"Oh. . ."

How could I leave now? I couldn't just leave with my boyfriend; that would be awfully rude. Suzie would be left to deal with a moody band while I was free to go. No, I had to stay, no matter how much I hated it.

"Ugh, speak of the Devil. . ." Suzie said spitefully as her eyes narrowed at something across the room.

I looked in the direction of her glare and saw a disgruntled John trudging to the bar. Soon, Ringo rejoined us at the table again and was complaining about John's outburst backstage. Apparently John had yelled at Paul for "getting pissed" and Paul had laughed hysterically in reply to his scolding. Unable to stand his intoxicated state, John had blamed Ringo and George for letting the bassist drink so much. George had become angry with the rhythm guitarist and left the club through the backdoor. Now Paul's date – Jane was her name – was backstage with him, trying to clean him up.

"So, does this happen a lot?" I asked.

"Whut? Paul gettin' piss drunk? Naah, it's usually John," Ringo answered casually. "But none o' us 'as evah gotten so drunk we couldn't play."

"Oh. . ."

"It'll be alright though," Ringo went on. "John'll be back to 'is ol' 'appy self aftah 'e gets a few drinks in 'em."

"E's such an arsehole," Suzie said with contempt.

"I know, but that's John," Ringo stated. "So Michelle, did ya get tah talk tah Paulie, yano, before 'e gave intah that Irish blood of 'is?" he chuckled.

"Yano the bass playah?" Brad asked with perplexed look on his face.

What was I suppose to say? I could feel my face beginning to flush again and my heart beating faster and faster. Why was Ringo asking me this? Couldn't he see that I have a boyfriend and that I have _no_ interest in Paul?

"_Miiiichelle!_"

All four of us looked in the direction of the person calling my name. Staggering over to our table with the wide eyed Jane behind him was Paul McCartney. I cringed inside as he came closer. He pulled up a chair at the head of the table and pulled the girl down on his lap. She giggled uncontrollably.

"_Miiiicheellee! Whhy_ didn't yaa say hullo tah me earlier?!" Paul slurred at me. He was also talking much louder than he needed to be.

"Um, I was busy Paul," I struggled to answer him. "This is Brad, my boyfriend."

Paul gave Brad a dirty look and then turned back to me. He reached his hand out and took hold of mine.

"Alright mate, I think it's time you and ya little friend get outta 'ere," Brad said, stretching his arm further around me so my hand was forced away from Paul's.

"Ya think so, do ya? Ya little university boy! Ya think ya so much bettah than all us rockers! Don't cha!" Paul yelled at Brad.

Jane looked frightened because of Paul's outburst. She began running her hands through Paul's hair to calm him down.

"P-Paulie? Why don't we go? I'm a bit tired an' you've 'ad a long night. . ." she said quietly.

"No! I'm not ready tah leave yet!"

"Come on, mate," Ringo said calmly. "You and Jane can come back tah me place with me and Suzie."

"Yeah, it'll be-"

"No, 'e doesn't 'ave tah leave if 'e doesn't wanna, Suzie," Brad interrupted her. "It's time fer me tah get Michelle 'ome, anyways."

I gave Brad a look of gratitude, but he simply gestured for me to get out. Was he angry with me? Or was he just annoyed with Paul? I searched his face for answers as we walked out of the crowded club, but failed. He looked straight ahead and wouldn't hold my hand as we walked. After a few moments of silence while walking home, I finally spoke up.

"Brad? Is . . . is something wrong?"

"Oh, I dunno Michelle! You tell me!" Brad stopped walking and looked me straight in the eyes.

I was dumbfounded at his brashness. Why was he acting like this? I hadn't done anything wrong, had I? Sure, I had been a little distant, but that was nothing to be irritated about!

"I . . . I'm sorry," I said, not able to think of anything else to say.

"No, don't say that. I'm sorry," he sighed. "I shouldn't 'ave yelled at ya. I just . . . don't undahstand. 'Ow do ya know Paul McCartney? Through Suzie?"

Oh . . . this was about how I knew Paul. . .

"Um . . . not exactly," I responded, trying to think of a way to explain how I met Paul.

Brad gave me a strange look. "Alright . . . so, does that mean somethin's goin' on between you two? 'Cos 'e seemed to be warmin' up tah ya like 'e knew ya pretty well!"

My mouth fell open in shock, "_What?! NO!_ Brad, there is _nothing_ going on between me and Paul! I swear!"

"Really?" he asked quietly.

"Really." I said taking his hands in mine and staring into his blue eyes. "You're the only one."

We stayed like that for a few seconds, staring into each other's eyes. I then leaned in and planted a soft kiss on his lips. "I promise," I whispered with my eyes still closed.

"Okay, if ya say there's no one else, then there's no one else," Brad said quietly. "I trust you, Michelle."

Walking home that night, I knew Brad believed me and that everything I had told him was true. If only I didn't feel so empty inside. It was as if everything in my life was coming together, but I still felt like something was missing. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Hello! I know it's been a while since my last update! I'm sorry about that! But with all the snow I just got, I found time to write for you guys! Oh, and I'm sorry if this is a bit short, but what can ya do? Anyways, thanks to Beatlesss, StayAnon, and JamesWinstonParkin-HarrisonLOVE for your lovely reviews! Keep them coming! (But please, be nice!)**

I woke up at ten with the thought of seeing Brad today. I had to admit, he was starting to grow on me more and more over time. I was starting to forget about you-know-who and everything I had felt for him. Brad and I had been getting closer over the past few weeks, so close that I had even told him about my dad. Of course I broke down crying, but Brad was right there to comfort me. Even though he couldn't relate to my situation, he tried his best to understand. I really admired him for that.

However, I still couldn't find that _something_ between us. Like that spark when we kissed, or the chills when his skin touched mine. It irked me that I didn't feel those things yet. And it worried me. I didn't want to be stuck in a loveless relationship with a sweet guy that I didn't have the heart to break up with. But maybe those sparks and chills would eventually appear and I wouldn't feel like something was missing anymore.

Guilt was also a factor in wanting to have those feelings for Brad. I liked him more and more every time we talked and went on dates, but it was so disappointing when he would kiss me. I think he felt more than I did when our lips touched. I could tell when things had gotten pretty heated about a week ago.

The two of us had gone out for lunch at a small diner and went for a walk in the park. The weather had been lovely all day; sunny and warm with just a slight breeze. Around three in the afternoon, however, the sky began to turn its Liverpudlian gray which gave way to rain. Brad and I hurried back to his house to escape the poor weather. Once there, he made tea and we snuggled up on the sofa in the sitting room. We started talking and then soon we were kissing. This wasn't anything new; we had made out before. Each time I wished and hoped to feel something, but only to be disheartened again and again.

Before I knew it, though, Brad was fully on top of me, pressing against my body with his and kissing me more and more ardently. This was not what I expected to happen. As I was about to push him away, a terribly loud crack of thunder rumbled throughout the house causing both of us to jump. We looked out the window behind the sofa and saw a steady down pour of rain falling from ominous clouds as bright lightening flashed before us. I had never been as grateful for stormy weather as I had in that particular moment.

"I should uh probably leave before my mom and sister start to worry. . ." I said.

"I can't let ya leave in a storm like this, luv!" Brad exclaimed, running his hand through my hair.

Again, his touch didn't leave any chills behind. Yet, I couldn't deny his caring, gentle face.

"I suppose not . . . okay, I'll stay until it passes," I smiled thankfully at him.

Brad leaned into me and gave me a kiss. Before he could take it further again, I suggested we make dinner. He agreed and we headed for the kitchen. As I moved about the kitchen, I could feel his eyes on me, watching me. It wasn't a stare that I minded; I had become accustomed to it. It was as if he was studying me in a way; attempting to understand how I worked and what made me tick.

While I was cooking at the stove, Brad wrapped his arms around my waist from behind. The warmth of his chest felt good against my body. Soon, I felt his lips softly kissing my neck. I didn't object at first, but then it felt like his kissing would leave a mark. A hickey was definitely something my sister would overreact about and I did _not _need that! Fortunately, dinner was ready so Brad had no choice but to let me go.

The rain continued into the night at a steady rate. Every now and then lightning flashed and thunder growled. Brad insisted I stay over that night. I didn't have a problem with that . . . as long as he didn't try anything. He hadn't ever tried to take things _that_ far, but he had been extremely touchy all day. Hence, I kept my distance and remained cautious.

Around eleven that night, we both decided it was time for bed. Brad gave me a pair of his pajamas to wear.

"They're me favourites," he told me.

"Oh, well I don't want to wear them if they're your favorites!"

He laughed. "That's _why _I gave them tah ya luv!"

"Oh. . ." I said feeling stupid.

I went to the bathroom and changed out of my clothes and into Brad's pajamas. As I left the bathroom and entered the hallway, I was unsure of where to go. Was I sleeping in Brad's room? Or was I sleeping on the sofa downstairs? I decided going downstairs was the safest choice. However, as I was making my way down the staircase, I heard a voice behind me.

"Michelle?"

I turned around and saw Brad at the top of the staircase.

"What're ya goin' downstairs foh?" he asked, looking puzzled.

_Oh, so I was sleeping upstairs._

"Just uh. . .going to get some water!" I answered quickly.

"Oh, okay. 'Urry back!"

After getting a glass of water, I slowly went back upstairs to Brad's room. I opened the door carefully to find my boyfriend stripping down to his boxers.

"How can you only sleep in that?" I asked surprised. "Don't you freeze?"

"Eh, not if I 'ave ya beside me tah keep me warm!" he replied with a devilish smile.

I rolled my eyes and laughed at his playfulness. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, staying the night. I began to relax as I climbed into bed with Brad. Yet, when I was perfectly content, he started on my neck again. Don't get me wrong; it felt nice, but I just wasn't in the mood. In the darkness of the room, I turned to face Brad to make him stop kissing me. Unfortunately, he mistook this and began kissing my lips and moving closer to me. Soon, he was on top of me again. I could feel his hands on my body, wandering aimlessly. My body was enjoying the intimacy, but my mind was not. I knew this was wrong because I wasn't anywhere close to being ready for sex. I mean, I wasn't a virgin, but I didn't even _love _Brad. It wouldn't be fair to him, so I had to stop him.

"Brad?" I whispered as soon as his lips had moved away from mine.

"Yes luv?" he answered breathlessly.

"I-I'm still not ready. . ."

"Oh. . ." he rolled off of me slowly. "That's alright Michelle, I undahstand."

"It's just . . . I'm not ready to take that step. I'm sorry," I said quietly.

"Michelle, don't apologize. _I'm_ the one who should be doin' that. I was the one who was movin' too fast," he reassured me soothingly.

I smiled at his words because I knew he meant them and that he felt regretful for what he had done. Giving him a goodnight kiss on the lips, I whispered, "Thank you" and curled up against his body. I closed my eyes, falling asleep to the sound of his heart beating.

Obviously Brad respected me, but I knew it wanted to move things along. But like I said, I just simply couldn't take that step if I didn't love him. Hopefully, he wouldn't mind waiting a little longer.

My mind couldn't leave the thought of that night all morning. I suddenly felt anxious about seeing Brad. Not the bad kind of anxious, but the good kind. Like when you're a little kid and can't wait for summer break.

As I was in the kitchen preparing lunch, I heard a knock at the front door. A smile spread across my face at this knowing Brad had finally arrived. I wiped my hands on a dish towel, patted down my hair and rushed to living room to answer the door. When I opened the door, my eyes widened in surprise at who was waiting for me.

"Uh hiya Michelle. . ." Paul greeted scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Paul? Wha-what are you doing here?" I asked in disbelief at seeing him.

"Um well, I uh wanted tah apologise," he answered quietly. "Can I uh come in?"

Apologize? What could he possibly have to apologize for? I hadn't seen him in weeks. I guess the only way to find out was to let him in.

"Oh, umm sure, you can come in. . ." I said trailing off as I held the door open for him.

"Thanks," he said walking toward the sofa. "I know we 'aven't seen each othah in a while, but I just feel awful about what 'appened at the Cavern that Friday. . ."

"Oh. . ."

"I'm so sorry fer the way I acted. I just . . . wasn't myself," he said looking at me with a small smile. "Can ya forgive me?"

"Of course I can!" I said casually. "I've already forgotten about it!"

Walking closer to him, I sat down on the sofa and he did the same. He chuckled at my enthusiasm.

"Glad to 'ear ya accept my apology!" he said happily. "I really dunno what came ovah me that night . . . I guess it could've been John. . ."

"Oh? What about him?" I asked curiously.

"Well, 'e came tah the gig with this new girl and they were cheesin' me off the whole night. 'E was actin' like 'e was bloody bettah than the rest o' us!" Paul explained angrily.

I thought for a moment. "I didn't see John there with a girl though. . ."

"Oh, they were there alright!" he replied raising his voice. "And 'e knew I liked 'er befoh 'e took 'er from me!"

Suddenly, it dawned on me. Paul wasn't talking about John and some girl he had brought to the gig. He was talking about me and Brad. How dare he!

"Paul, you're not talking about John, are you?" I asked.

"'Ow would you know?! You were too busy with yer _boyfriend_ the whole night!" he exclaimed as his brows furrowed crossly.

"Why does that matter to you?!" I questioned him furiously, standing up. "You seemed pretty happy with that red headed trollop!"

Paul immediately stood up and took a step toward me. "What does Jane 'afta do with this? Are ya jealous of 'er, Michelle? Ya jealous cos she was with me and you were stuck with that stiff Brad?"

"Ugh! I can't believe you! You come to my house, apologize and now you're criticizing me and my boyfriend?! Get out!" I yelled pointing toward the door.

"Michelle, don't ya see what I see? Yer not 'appy with that bloke! 'E bores ya, I can tell!" Paul said calming down and desperately trying to explain himself.

"Didn't you hear me? I said get out!" I shouted again, ignoring his comments.

Paul took another step closer to me, almost too close. "Why won't you listen to me? I'm only tryin' tah look out fer ya!"

"No, no you're not! You're just trying to ruin my relationship!" I yelled at him. "Now, get ou-"

Without letting me finish my sentence, Paul had grabbed my shoulders with his hands and forced my lips against his. I struggled to fight him off for the first few seconds, pushing him away with my hands. Then I realized how good his kisses felt; how good his hands felt against my skin as they moved up my neck. Most of all, I couldn't believe the spark that was created as my mouth moved in sync with his. It was the most amazing feeling I had ever experienced. It made me forget about the fight Paul and I had just had, where I was, and . . . Brad.

Soon, I realized how wrong this all was. I couldn't be kissing Paul when I was supposed to be in a relationship with Brad! But . . . it felt _so_ right. It took all my strength to push Paul away and when I did, I felt lost and uncertain. Paul looked down at me sheepishly.

"You . . . you should go . . ." I said quietly, staring down at the floor.

"Michelle, I . . . I'm sor-"

"Just leave . . . _please_," I whispered walking past him to the other side of the room.

Keeping my back to him, I heard Paul leave. He seemed to pause at the door, as if waiting for me to stop him. However, I didn't move. I kept still and hugged myself as tears quietly escaped my eyes and slowly streamed down my cheeks.

***GASP!* WHAAT?! Review and tell me what ya think! Thanks! XOXOXO**


	11. Chapter 11

Slouching into the sofa as I sipped at my tea, I listened to Suzie while she talked about what had happened since I last saw her a few days ago. She was mostly telling me about her relationship with Ringo. I, on the other hand, was barely speaking. I was just giving her the occasional _mmhmm_ or _yeah_ to let her know that I was still alive and listening. I hadn't told her anything about me and Brad or . . . what had happened two days ago between me and Paul. How could I? I knew she would be irate and scream at me for being unfaithful.

"So I was hangin' round with the boys yestahday," Suzie said casually.

I couldn't help but notice the slight caution in her voice.

"Oh?" I replied, trying to sound innocent. "How are they?"

"Alright, they mostly were just practising some songs fer their next gig," she said, but obviously thinking about something else. "But uh Paul was actin' kinda funny."

My stomach dropped about a thousand feet into a bottomless pit. If only that bottomless pit could have swallowed me up at that exact moment. I looked at Suzie trying to see if she suspected me of anything.

"What do you mean?" I asked sounding curious, but still trying to act like I knew nothing at all.

"Well, when I mentioned somethin' about ya, 'e broke a string on his bass and then latah 'e tried to change the subject when I brought ya up again," she answered, glaring at me.

"What? Why is that _my _fault?" I said trying to sound shocked, but instead came off as defensive.

"Oh, I dunno! Maybe cause you two 'ave been obsessed with each othah since ya furst met!" she exclaimed sarcastically.

My jaw fell open as I gaped at her. "That is _not _true!"

Suzie narrowed her dark eyes at me. "Michelle, whut 'appened?"

My lips began to quiver as I realized how awful the truth was – I had let another man kiss me while I was dating someone who I didn't even love. And not only had I let him kiss me, I _enjoyed_ the kiss.

"N-Nothing happened!" I lied, my voice shaking uncontrollably. "Why do you think something happened?!"

Suzie stared back at me with a bored expression upon her face. She knew I was lying through my teeth and could see right through me. Instead of pointing it out, though, she simply waited until I caved in and told her the truth.

As the first tear trickled down my cheek, I cried out the terrible truth: "He-He _kissed_ me." I buried my face into my hands and wept as my friend gasped in horror.

"_What?! _He _kissed _ya?! When?!"

"Two days ago," I answered lifting my head up and wiping my tear stained face.

"Fer Christ's sake, Michelle! 'Ow could ya let this 'appen?!" she yelled angrily.

"I-It's not _my _fault! _He _kissed me! He practically attacked me!" I shouted back, attempting to make myself the victim in the situation.

"Did you _try _to push him away?!" Suzie asked urgently.

I hesitated, "Umm, a-at first I did-"

"You kissed him BACK?!" she asked in horror.

"Well, yes, but no, ya see," I stammered trying to explain my horrible, horrible self.

"_Michelle! _I can't believe ya! Yer with _Brad! _That name ring any bells?!" she asked waving her hands all over the place as she talked.

"Yeah, I know Suzie! You don't need to remind me!" I covered my face with my hands and started crying once again.

"Aw, Michelle," Suzie sighed as she sat up and moved to sit next to me. She wrapped her arm around me in an attempt to console me, but it only made me feel worse. I didn't deserve to be treated nicely; I was basically a whore.

For the next hour, I explained to Suzie everything that had happened between me and Paul – he apologizing, the argument and the fateful kiss. Of course she was fuming that I had given up in fighting him off, but she didn't condemn me for it. In the end, Suzie gave me two choices: either I break up with Brad or stay away from Paul and keep going out with Brad. Both choices seemed so scary and didn't give me a solid guarantee about the future.

Fortunately, Suzie didn't pressure me for a decision right then and there. Instead, she suggested we should get some fresh air. We took a walk to the busy part of town and decided to get some lunch at a local pub. We found a comfortable booth and began looking over the menu. As the waiter came over and took our orders, I heard a loud commotion by the door. Let's just say when I saw who had walked in, crawling under the table and hiding didn't seem like such a bad idea.

"'Ey Suzie!" Ringo called from across the pub.

Suzie turned to look in the direction of her boyfriend. Unfortunately, he wasn't alone. Following behind him were John, George and to my dismay, Paul. As they got closer to our booth, I kept my eyes on the window next to us. However, I was watching Paul out of the corner of my eye and noticed how nervous he seemed.

"'Ello Richie," Suzie said standing up and giving Ringo a kiss on the cheek. "I see yer mates are with ya." She narrowed her eyes at Paul as she spoke.

"Uh, yeah!" he said cheerily, but slightly confused. "So can we join ya, luv?"

"Sure! You and Paulie can sit with me and Georgie and John can sit with Michelle!" she exclaimed excitedly.

I could tell what she was doing though. Suzie was trying to keep Paul as far away from me as possible. However, because John wanted to sit next to the window and Ringo wanted to sit on the outside, I ended up sitting on the end next to George and Paul was stuck in between Suzie and Ringo. Things were cozy.

Soon the waiter came back over and took the boys' orders. We seemed to have everything on the menu present at our table! Man, could those boys eat! I couldn't help but giggle at Paul as he stuffed his face; he looked just like a chipmunk! Unfortunately, he noticed my giggles and looked over. I immediately blushed and looked away. I began eating again once I knew Paul's gaze had shifted away from me.

"Sumthin' the mattah?" George asked from beside me.

I looked up at the taller boy; this was the closest we had ever been next to each other. I mean, we didn't really see much of each other and we weren't close friends! However, I remember the night Paul introduced us; he shocked me with his wittiness! I learned that George was usually quiet unless he was spoken to or had something important to say.

"Oh, no," I said giving him a small smile. "Everything's fine."

"Good tah 'ear that!" he said returning the smile and returning to his food.

He began dipping four fries, or "chips", at a time in his ketchup and eating them all at once. It seemed like he hadn't eaten in ages! Soon his cheeks were puffing out with food.

"Are you enjoying your food George?" I asked giggling.

He looked over at me and grinned with a mouth full of food. "Ew!" I laughed and pushed him away.

As I turned back to my plate, I caught Paul narrowing his eyes at me. What was his problem? Why was he glaring at me? I hadn't said one word to him since he got here. It was probably best to ignore him.

I continued to talk to mostly George throughout lunch. Surprisingly, I discovered he wasn't as boring as I had originally thought. He had this offbeat sense of humor that I found hilarious. I also found out that we had the same taste in music and siblings that we couldn't stand. While I was laughing at something George had said, I heard someone say my name.

"Uh, Michelle?"

I looked over and saw Paul trying to get my attention. "Yes?" I said looking him dead in the eye.

"Uh, I was wonderin' if-"

"Oh Michelle!" Suzie called across the table, interrupting Paul. "I meant tah ask ya, 'ow's Brad?"

I couldn't help but notice Paul giving her the same dirty look he had given me earlier. Suzie, however, did not notice as she leaned across the table, eyes wide awaiting my answer. I could see right through her though; she wasn't interested in Brad, she was simply trying to keep Paul away from me. Fortunately for her, it was working. Sighing, Paul leaned back into the booth and played with the remains of his food.

"Um, he's good. Mostly busy at work," I answered calmly.

"Where does he work again?" Ringo asked taking a sip of his drink.

"At his uncle's restaurant," I said. "He's the assistant manager."

"Could 'e get us free food?" John asked with wide eyes as he leaned over George.

I laughed at his child-like enthusiasm. "Ummmm I don't know!"

"Yer so cheap John!" George complained of his friend.

"Well, what do ya suppose I do 'Arrison?" John asked gruffly. "Money from gigs doesn't pay fer shite!"

"Alright, alright, you two!" Suzie said motherly, calming the two down as if they were bickering children.

After about ten more minutes, our waiter returned and gave us the check. Everyone pulled out their wallets and paid for their meals, except for Suzie of course. Ringo insisted on paying for her. He had asked Paul to switch seats with him so he could be closer to Suzie. My friend, though, wasn't too sure about this, but her protests were silenced once Ringo wrapped his arm around her and began kissing her. This caused groans from John and George, but Paul was too focused on me to notice the loving couple beside him.

"Uh, Michelle?" he said looking uncomfortable.

"Yes?"

"Can I uh talk to you privately?" he asked quietly.

"Um okay. . ." I said half heartedly.

Truthfully, I did not want to talk to him _privately _after what had happened a few days ago. It would be awkward no matter what! However, I followed him to the back of the restaurant while John and George went outside to smoke and to get away from the couple making out at our booth.

Once Paul and I were in the rear of the restaurant, near the payphones, he stopped. We waited as a woman walked by, exiting the nearby bathroom. As I watched her walk past us, I turned around to find Paul much closer to me.

"Paul? Wha-"

Before I could get my words out, Paul had once again pressed his lips against mine. I could feel his hands on my hips pulling me closer to him as he kissed me harder. My eyes went wide with shock as Paul pushed me against the wall next to a payphone. However, I stopped myself from making the same mistake twice. I also stopped Paul before he went too far.

Forcing him off of me, I exclaimed, "What do you think you're doing?!"

"Just continuing what ya interrupted last time!" he answered with a devilish grin.

"Paul, we can't! This is _wrong!_" I explained, still against the wall.

"Mmhmm," Paul hummed leaning closer to me.

I found him harder to resist as his mouth neared mine; I could feel his warm breath on my skin. He gave me a soft kiss that made me melt away from the world and only focus on the feeling of his lips against mine.

"Ah, see yer words tell me no, but yer lips tell me yes," he whispered charmingly.

Opening my eyes and looking up at him, I knew he was right. No matter how much I tried to deny it, I wanted to kiss Paul McCartney. I adored how our mouths moved together in unison, how my body felt against his, how it felt new and exciting each time our lips met. And with that realization, I broke down and threw away everything I stood for.

"Shut up."

I sighed and wrapped my arms around Paul's neck. He closed the distance between us as I tilted my head and deeply inhaled. My mind seemed unable to register fully what was going on; it was like I was a different person, watching this girl make out with a guy she wasn't even dating. But I didn't care. I lived in the moment and enjoyed the exhilaration as Paul pressed his whole body against mine so I was sandwiched in between him and the wall. Soon, I felt like I couldn't breathe, but in a good way. Our kisses became shorter as we took small breaths in between until Paul started kissing my neck. I ran my fingers through his hair as I caught my breath, and soon Paul made his way back to my mouth.

A sudden fear filled me when I realized how long Paul and I had been back here. I could just imagine Suzie wondering where we were and walking in on this scene. She definitely would not forgive me for this!

With all the strength I could muster, I opened my eyes and gently pushed Paul away from me. He seemed confused, but smiled at me nonetheless. I giggled as he gently pecked my lips one last time before I noticed someone off to the side, with a shocked expression on their face. Turning my head to see who was standing there, I saw George, his dark eyes wide with surprise and his mouth agape in disbelief. I could feel my face burning up from embarrassment. Paul looked in the direction of my gaze and his face seemed to copy George's expression once he realized that we had been caught.

"George! What're ya standin' there fo'?" Paul demanded, stepping away from me.

"Uh, I was on me way tah the loo. . ." George answered still confused by what he had seen. "Were you two just. . .?"

"Depends," Paul said, sounding worried. "What did ya see?"

"Umm, pretty much you two snoggin' each othah's faces off," he said as he awkwardly approached us.

I groaned at this, knowing he had seen enough to know what was going on between Paul and me. Wait . . . no! Nothing was going on between us! We weren't dating or anything, we just . . . were friends! Friends who were attracted to each other and occasionally made out. . .

Paul wrapped his arm around my waist, surprising me a little by this extended display of affection. "George, ya can't tell anybody whut ya just saw!" Paul said urgently. "Alright?"

"Why not?" George asked puzzled, looking between Paul and me.

"Ya just can't!" Paul exclaimed. "Alright?"

"Yeah, I guess. . ." George agreed, a perplexed expression remaining on his face. "So can I go tah the loo, now?"

Paul laughed nervously at his friend. "Of course ya can, mate!"

After George had disappeared into the men's room, Paul turned to me with a serious expression. "I 'ope yer not angry. . ." he said taking my hands in his.

"No, no. I'm just a little bit embarrassed," I said biting my lip. "I mean . . . we were kinda crazy . . ."

Paul chuckled at my description of our passionate kissing. "Yeah, I dunno whut it is, Michelle," he said quietly as he ran his fingers through my hair. "Ya just drive me mad." He began leaning down to kiss me again, but I turned my head just before his lips could touch mine.

"Paul," I giggled. "We have to get back to the others. They're probably wondering where we went!"

"Alright," he whined, like a small child not getting what he wanted. "You go furst."

Before walking away, I gave him a peck on the cheek. As I was about to round the corner, I felt a hand grab mine and pull me back. I found myself once again in Paul's arms, staring into his amorous eyes.

"Maybe we can spare a few more minutes?" he asked flirtatiously.

"Hmmm," I hummed, pretending to ponder his question. "I suppose I have a few moments to spare, but only if it's an emergency!" I told him giggling like a schoolgirl.

Paul's eyes widened with amusement while he tilted his mouth closer to mine. He stopped right before our lips touched, leaving me anxiously waiting. I couldn't stand how he was torturing me; I felt as though my heart was pounding loud enough for him, and the whole pub to hear.

"Trust me," he whispered. "It's an emergency."

Before I could react to his words, he kissed me long and hard, leaving me breathless and in a daze. I couldn't imagine anything like the feeling I experienced when Paul McCartney kissed me. It created shivers that ran down my spine and sent my mind reeling with ecstasy. I just hoped, he felt the same way about me.


	12. Chapter 12

**Hello, hello lovely readers! Sorry it's been so long! I was suffering from writer's block, then I got busy and then it was finals week and now a new trimester! GAH! Only 60 something days left of school! Not including weekends and April vacation though! But that might be gone cause of all the snow days DX Anywho! Hope ya like this! Enjoy!**

"Paul," I whispered to get his attention.

He simply ignored me, though, like most times. He just continued to kiss me, harder and longer. Not that I minded having his tongue in my mouth or anything, but I was getting nervous. We couldn't afford to get caught. There had been some close calls over the past month and a half . . .

Yes, we had been sneaking around for a month and a half, okay? And yes, I was still dating Brad . . . but I couldn't just end things with Brad because I liked Paul. Paul had never told me that he wanted more and frankly, neither did I. It kept things simple and fun. Plus, sneaking around gave me such a rush, knowing we could be caught at any moment was thrilling!

By now, some might call me a whore, but really I wasn't. Paul and I hadn't had sex and we never intended to. And usually, our "encounters" with each other were brief and only happened on certain occasions. His band had been so busy this summer with touring, concerts, radio appearances, you name it, that we barely saw each other! The only time we met up was when he was practicing with his band mates or at a local gig and when I was accompanied by Suzie. That made things even less suspicious, even though Suzie still kept her eye on us, or should I say Paul.

She hadn't suspected a thing the day at the pub though. Ringo had been sucking her face off the whole time, so she hadn't noticed how long we had been gone. The only person who knew about Paul and me was George and boy, did he save us more than once! George had interrupted Paul and me countless times to alert us that somebody could catch us in the act. One particular time, we had met backstage after one of the boys' gigs and had almost been seen by Suzie. Luckily, George had stopped her right before she walked in on me and Paul. If only we didn't have to hide so much. . .

"Uugghh!" came a groan from the kitchen door.

Paul immediately pulled away from me and turned around. I opened my eyes and saw George walking across the kitchen.

"Can you two _please _refrain from makin' out for just two seconds?!" George complained as he opened the refrigerator.

"It's me 'ouse Georgie; I can do whutevah I want," Paul said with an annoyed expression on his face. The boys were at Paul's house practicing their music. "Don't ya 'ave a guitar ya need tah attend to anyways?"

George turned around holding a drink in his hand. He narrowed his eyes at both me and Paul in disgust.

"Don't _you _'ave a bass tah play, Paul? And don't _you _'ave a boyfrend, Michelle?" George asked spitefully.

I didn't blame him for being angry with us. We were using him for our own selfish desires and hadn't thanked him once. I suddenly felt guilty for my behavior; I was willing to hurt everyone I cared about just to let some guy kiss me and feel me up for a few minutes. I really was a horrible person and seriously needed to reconsider what I was doing with my life. Sliding off of the counter, I tried to apologize to the guitarist.

"George," I began. "I'm sorry-"

"I gotta get back to the othahs," he sighed regretfully. "You two should probably do the same."

Paul turned to face me after George had left us. "Don't mind 'im," he said caressing my cheek with his hand. "'E just gets moody sumtimes."

He tried to lean in to continue where we had left off, but I gently nudged him away. I turned around so that my back was facing him and looked out the window behind the sink. Crossing my arms over my chest, I thought about how awful this was.

"Sumthin' wrong, luv?" Paul asked while wrapping his arms around my waist from behind.

"I'm just thinking. . ." I answered him as he began to kiss my neck softly.

Even though his lips felt amazing against my skin, remorse continued to plague me. I shouldn't be enjoying myself with Paul this much; I'm with Brad, not Paul. How would I feel if Brad did the same thing to me? I would feel like I didn't do enough to please him. But it was more than that. If I left Brad for Paul, what would people think of me? I'd be dating a member of the band I had formally despised, _the_ member I told everyone I hated! It was just safer to continue with the way things were. Yet, even though I could logically explain everything to myself why didn't I believe it?

"About whut?" Paul whispered into my ear. I tried to ignore how his lips softly grazed my skin as he asked the question. Chills ran down my spine just from the feeling of his breath on my neck.

"Nothing," I answered quickly. "We should probably go back like George said."

Turning around to face Paul, I gave him a weak smile and a peck on the lips before walking out. It killed me a little bit more each time I had to leave him.

. . .

In October, I received a knock on my door. Brad and I were cuddling on the couch; I drawing, him reading. It was a typical weekend for us and I could honestly say I was enjoying myself. Except for the occasional stab of guilt every now and then.

I hadn't seen Paul in a few weeks which gave me a chance to think clearly. Without him around, it helped me focus on Brad and our relationship. However, every time Brad kissed me, snuggled with me or showed me any affection, my brain would imagine Paul doing those things. I just couldn't get him out of my head.

"I'll get it!" I sang cheerily.

Brad chuckled at my enthusiasm as I stood up and put my drawing on the coffee table. I walked to the door with a spring in my step in anticipation of who could be at the door. When I opened it, though, I found no one there. I turned my head left and right searching for who could have knocked on my door, but found no one. As I was about to close the door, however, I spotted something on the front step. It was a small white envelope that said "Michelle" on it. I could recognize that handwriting anywhere. It was the same handwriting of the person who periodically sent me love notes. . .

Shoving the envelope down my shirt, I quickly closed the door. I glanced at the sofa to see Brad still absorbed in his book.

"No one at the door?" he asked not taking his eyes off the page his was reading.

"Nope," I said casually. "Probably just some kids playing ding dong ditch or something."

"Ugh," he groaned. "'Orrible little buggahs."

"Huh?" I looked at him curiously as I sat next to him on the sofa.

"Childrun!" he exclaimed closing his book. "All they are is disrespectful, rude, and messy!"

I was shocked by this outburst; Brad had always seemed like a father-in-waiting to me! How could he say such awful things? I had always wanted at least two children of my own!

"I'm sure not _all_ children are like that Brad," I said trying to persuade him.

"No, they are! Trust me!" he said with wide eyes. "I see them at their worst when I'm at work!"

I rolled my eyes at him

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean they're terrible _all _the time!" I replied.

"'Ey, if they're terrible sum of the time, that's enough fer me tah say no!" he said going back to his book.

How could he act like this? How could he think that children were ungrateful little monsters? How could he not _want _them? This gave me an entirely new outlook on Brad and made me view him in a completely new way. Simply put, I was devastated.

Fortunately Brad had to leave soon to go to work. After he left, I ran up to my room to open the envelope. Paul hadn't written me a note in a while so I was a bit excited. As I gently opened the seal, I saw that the contents were much different than all the other letters he had sent me. I took out a small note and a ticket to The Beatles concert at Floral Hall in Southport. The note read:

_There's only one ticket for a reason. Leave that drag of a boyfriend at home and come have some fun. Can't wait to see you my Michelle._

_-Paul McCartney_

My heart fluttered as my eyes reread the words "my Michelle." I suddenly couldn't wait to see him! Rushing around my room, I looked for something to wear to the concert. Wait . . . what was the date on the ticket? Gently picking up the ticket, I read the date on it. October 17. That was in three days! How could I wait that long to see Paul?

All of a sudden, I had an idea. I could call Paul and thank him for the ticket! It would give me an excuse to hear his lovely voice. Hurrying down the stairs and into the kitchen, I picked up the phone and dialed Paul's number. Anticipation rose inside of my chest each time I heard the ring on the other line. Finally, he picked up.

"Hullo?"

"Um hi Paul," I greeted nervously. "It's Michelle."

"Oh, Michelle!" I could picture the adorable smile spreading across his face. "How are ya luv?"

"I'm great," I sighed happily, spinning the cord around my index finger.

"I'm happy tah 'ear that," he said equally as pleased as me. "Did ya get me lettah?"

"I did!" I answered excitedly. "That's why I called! I wanted to thank you!"

"Oh! Well yer vury welcome Michelle! I hope ya can go!"

"Well, can I ask you something?" A worrying thought in the back of my mind had suddenly brought itself to my attention.

"Anythin'" he replied softly.

"Ummmm is that girl going to be at the concert? Jane?" I asked hesitantly.

"Uh no," Paul chuckled. "I didn't invite 'er!"

"Oh, okay. . ." I suddenly felt stupid for asking.

"So're ya goin'?" he asked again, with a hopeful tone.

"Hmmm, we'll see!" I answered trying to sound coy.

"Well, what can I do tah change yer mind?" Paul responded flirtatiously.

"Maybe you could come over?"

"Alright. If that's what it's gonna take tah get ya to the concert!" Paul said, acting as if it was a terrible dilemma for him.

I grinned in happiness knowing he would be here soon. After hanging up the phone, I dashed around the house cleaning up a bit and making sure it looked presentable. While I was fixing my hair in the mirror, I heard a knock on the back door. Paul had been over a few times before and knew to go to the back door in order not to be seen by anyone. Butterflies formed inside of my stomach from the excitement of knowing Paul was just seconds away from being in my arms again.

When I opened the door, I immediately swung my arms around Paul's neck and gave him a soft kiss on the lips.

"I missed you," I whispered, looking up into his eyes.

"I missed ya too," he said, wrapping his arms around my waist.

I loved being close to him like this; it felt so right. Why couldn't I just let myself be with Paul like I wanted to? Why couldn't I let myself be happy all of the time instead of just some of the time? I was too scared, that's why.

My fingers ran along the back of Paul's hair as he leaned down to kiss me again. His soft lips felt incredible as they grazed mine; first slowly, then more and more eagerly. Before I knew it, Paul had closed the door behind him and picked me up so that my legs were wrapped around his torso. He carried me through the kitchen and into the living room where he placed me on the sofa and crawled on top of me.

Lying beneath Paul felt wonderful. My hands tenderly traced his body while he continued to kiss me harder and harder. He bit my bottom lip causing me to pull him closer. In response, Paul started to gingerly lift the hem of my shirt up with his hand. A sharp gasp escaped my mouth as his warm skin made contact with my cold hip. This was the furthest we had ever gone and I wanted to take it further. I yearned for him more and more each time his skin made contact with mine, each time his lips touched mine. No matter how much I wanted him, though, I needed to stop him. This wasn't right. At least not for now.

I ran my hand up Paul's chest to his neck so I could gently push his mouth away from mine. Paul pulled away and smiled with his eyes still closed.

"We can't," I whispered breathlessly.

Paul pouted out his bottom lip in sadness while looking at me with sad puppy dog eyes. I didn't give into him though. He leaned his head down, but I pushed him away before he could continue to kiss me.

"I mean it Paul," I said sternly as I sat up. "It's wrong."

"That's whut ya said at the pub when I kissed ya," he said with a wink.

Annoyed, I gave him a blank stare. Kissing wasn't the same as having sex! Paul laughed at my non expressive reaction.

"I was only jokin'!" he said putting his arm around me.

"Mmhmm," I hummed sarcastically as I leaned my head on his shoulder. He smelled so good.

"Tired?" he asked rubbing his thumb against my cheek.

"Just a little." I curled my feet up on the couch.

"That boyfrend of yer's keep ya up all night?" Paul asked suggestively.

I sat up quickly at this outrageous comment. "_No!_" I said defensively.

"Calm down Michelle!" Paul laughed at my shocked reaction. "It was anothah joke! Boy, yer easy to unrattle!"

I crossed my arms and furrowed my brow at him. It annoyed me how well he knew me; what made me laugh, what bothered me. But then again . . . no one else knew those things as well as he did and it felt . . . comforting.

Paul crossed his arms as if to mock my irritated stance. "I _know _you can't stay angry with me!" he said leaning closer.

"No! Kissing me isn't gonna make me any less mad Paul!" I told him shaking my head.

"_Really?_" he asked with a raised eyebrow. He moved closer to me until our lips were only an inch apart. I could barely contain myself for the anticipated kiss that was about to ensue. Yet, something _much _unexpected happened instead.

I began to laugh very loudly as Paul started tickling me. His long fingers overpowered me while I leaned back onto the couch giggling. From above me, Paul grinned devilishly, pleased that his torture was working. I continued laughing until I was completely out of breath. Paul noticed this and stopped his torment.

"Told ya ya can't stay angry with me!" he said grinning evilly. Once again, he attempted to lean in for a kiss. Ruining his plan, I put my index finger to his lips and shook my head side to side. He sighed disappointedly as I made myself comfortable by placing a pillow on his lap and resting my head on the pillow. I looked up to see an amused look on his face.

"What?" I asked. "I'm tired!"

"So ya use me as a pillow?" he laughed.

"Yup!" I answered grinning.

Paul smiled down at me. I felt so content in his presence unlike when I was with Brad. I always feared that I bored Brad sometimes, but with Paul I never got that fear. Or any fears for that matter.

I suddenly felt the need to be in physical contact with him. Lifting my hand up, I ran my fingers through Paul's chestnut brown hair. I suddenly wondered how he felt about children.

"So," he began as I moved my hand down to his neck. "Did I change yer mind? Are ya coming to the gig?"

I shrugged my shoulders looking up at him. "Why not? Suz will be there and it's great entertainment!"

He chuckled. "Am I somewhere in that equation?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Maybe!" I said with a wide grin and a wink.

Paul shook his head at my behavior. We spent the rest of the day talking about various things. Mostly his band, how long he had been playing guitar and bass, and how long he had known John, George and Ringo. I was surprised to hear that they had been to Germany a few times – Hamburg was a scandalous place back then! Unfortunately Paul couldn't elaborate much on the topic because Suzie called to let me know she was coming over. I reluctantly sat up from lying on Paul and walked him to the back door. I desperately wished I didn't have to say goodbye to him. If only we could have an open relationship. . .

I looked down at the ground as Paul opened the door to leave. As he was about to walk out, he turned around to face me.

"Hey," he whispered gently. I looked up at him with sad eyes. "Only three days till the concert."

I gave him a small smile as he cupped my face in his hand and kissed me softly on the mouth, slowly and drawn out. I knew Paul didn't want to leave, I could feel it in his touch as his other hand pushed against the small of my back so that I was up against his body. But maybe it was just all physical to him. Maybe he didn't feel the same way I did about him. No, he couldn't. This was just a fling to him. I meant nothing to Paul McCartney. At least, I thought I didn't.

Paul pulled away a little, leaving me once again in a daze from his lovely kisses that ignited a fire in my soul. Before I could fully regain my composure, Paul uttered words that shocked and scared me to my core.

"I love you," he whispered into my mouth before giving me one last kiss and exiting out the door.

Baffled, I stood there with the door wide open until I heard Suzie barge in and loudly yell my name, making me reenter reality.

***GASP!* What will Michelle do? Does Paul really mean it? Will Suzie find out? Will they make it up to George or will he spill the beans? OR will Brad find out? STAY TUNED TO FIND OUT! And as always review guys! Till next time! XOXOXO**


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